#also hi my blog has been collecting dust

[mantracross]

[snailvibes]

Think I might remake the intro post sooner than later

[tojiscumdumpster]

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။ knockout x renji abarai

✧ summary there’s no better way for renji to celebrate a big win than to spend the night with y/n.

✧ content warnings reader described as a black woman who uses she/pronouns. feisty!reader, chubby!reader x undergroundfighter!renji. modern au — no bleach verse. told in first POV — renji’s. mentions of stitches and bruises. usage of profanity, praise kink, cowgirl position, nipple play, facefucking — renji will finish in reader’s, squirting. terms of endearment — baby, sweetheart, angel, etc. reader and renji are in their late twenties.

✧ author’s note hello, hello. i am here with a fic that’s not jjk for once in my life, lmfao. this idea has been in my drafts since january 2023, and it was just sitting there collecting dusts on my old tumblr. but i said i was going to do more bleach characters, so here we go. first time writing renji, so if this ain’t how you see him, oops. still enjoy. also didn't really focus on the underground!fighter portion as much. but maybe i will if there's a next time. support me by liking, commenting, and reblogging this post. i would greatly appreciate it. AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS AND MINORS— DO NOT INTERACT.

I know she told me not to come by after the fight, but I needed to. 

 I won.

 I fucking won, and there’s no other way for me to celebrate winning ten thousand dollars than to be with Y/N.

 Well, that’s if she’s still not mad at me.

 Before I left for my match, we got into an argument. A huge one. She doesn’t like that I fight for a living, let alone illegal underground fighting. I mean—I get it. Seeing someone you care about constantly getting his ass beat isn’t a sight worth seeing. 

 But fighting is all I know. 

 I had a shitty childhood. Didn’t know who the hell my parents were since they gave me up at birth for adoption. Jump around in foster care homes until the mothers got sick of me and kicked me out in the streets. Survival was basically forced on me.

 Fighting is what kept me alive. For food. Clothes. A place to lay my head. Whether I lost or won, I know the reason why I’m alive today is because I’m a fighter. 

 It wasn’t until I was eighteen when I found out about the world of underground fighting. Ten years deep and I know nothing else. 

 Y/N knows this about me. She understands I didn’t have it easy and never judged me. But that doesn’t mean she agrees with my lifestyle. 

 She came to a few fights in the beginning. Eventually, she got tired of seeing me stitched up almost every weekend. 

 Shit, me too. 

 However, after tonight, I feel good about my future wins. I busted my ass in training, so now I don’t have to hear shit about anymore losses. 

 Even if right now I’m stitched up and have a black eye. I feel good.

 Great.

 Better if Y/N opens the door after keeping me waiting out in the cold for the past ten minutes. 

 I know she’s awake. She has a habit of staying up late, studying for med school. And plus, I haven’t messaged or called her yet. Despite her not showing up to my fights, she still wants an update afterwards that I made it out alive.

 “Y/N, let me in,” I say, knocking loudly on her apartment door. “You know I don’t care about making a scene.”

 After a few more obnoxious knocks, the door finally swings open and I am met with deep russet skin, tight curls, and chocolate-colored eyes that pierce an annoyed look in my direction.

 “What do you want?” She bites out. “I’m busy.”

 I smirk and hold the bag of money in the air. “I won.”

 “Congrats.” Her tone is flat and she tries to slam the door in my face, but I placed my foot to stop it from closing. “Seriously?”

 “Yes, seriously. Are you really still mad at me?” I teasingly ask. 

 “You won. I said congrats. What more do you want?”

 I shrugged. “I’m locked out of my apartment.”

 She arches a brow at me, already recognizing my bullshit ass excuse of being locked out of my apartment. 

 Y/N knows me. She knows I would do anything to be in her presence, so going back and forth in forty degree weather is pointless. 

 Her pretty brown hues travels across my face and body, examining the stitches and bruises that probably has her wondering, who the fuck treated him? 

 Me. But that’s besides the point.

 A deep sign escapes her mouth when she realizes I’m not going anywhere until she lets me in, so she opens her door wider and turns her back to me to walk further inside her apartment. 

 “Sit,” she orders, which I happily do so while chuckling to myself. 

 While Y/N goes to the bathroom (assuming she’s getting a med kit to fix my shitty patch job), I take advantage of staring at her round ass that’s barely covered in those tiny boy shorts. Every step she takes it jiggles, creating an ocean of waves I’m eager to swim in.

 I get comfortable while I wait, taking off my skully, sweater, and any other form of heavy clothing that would cause me to sweat in her heated apartment. 

 “I’m going to start charging you if you keep fucking coming to my apartment like this, Renji,” Y/N snapped, walking with the kit in her hand as expected. 

 “Outside of paying for your tuition, I can think of other ways to repay you.”

 She rolls her eyes at my suggestive comment. “Get over yourself, Abarai.”

 I let out a snort before she stands in front of me and tilt up my chin to start making work on my face. 

 She’s cute when she’s mad. Huffing and puffing while whispering slick comments under breath. But how she’s handling my face by moving it around with force rushes blood straight to my groin.

 I’m getting hard.

 Hard as shit, and it’s not helping that I’m in close proximity with her. 

 That jasmine lavender scent that circulates through my senses. Looking up at her full lips that’s coated with gloss. Then, lowering my gaze to her tits that’s big, naturally saggy, and pretty. My mouth is watering at the sight of her nipples hardening.

 And I don’t know if it’s because she feels that I’m checking her out or the coldness outside is affecting her. 

 Either way, I’ll act on it.

 Taking it upon myself, I grab the back of her thighs to pull her on my lap. As if she’s used to my antics, it doesn’t catch her off guard and she continues to clean up my wounds. 

 “You’re all bloody up with a black eye and somehow you still have the energy to be a pervert,” she retorts.

 I move one of hands to her ass, massaging comforting circles. “For you? Yeah.”

 The quiet between us was comfortable until she opted to speak again. “So… who’d you fight?”

 “Some huge motherfucker. I thought I was going to die.”

 She leans back to grab more alcohol and dabs it above my brow. “Maybe that’s what needed to have you stop fucking fighting.”

 I throw my head back to laugh, but she grabs my chin to bring my face forward. “Like you want me dead.” My hands creep beneath her cheeks to pull her closer to me and apply more pressure to my cock. “That’s what you want?”

 “That came out my mouth, Abarai?”

 “Why are you still mad at me?” 

 She scoffs. “Why am I mad that you’re practically coming to me everyday with a busted face and broken ribs?” That’s one thing I love about Y/N—her feisty personality. It turns me on so fucking much because I know when I fuck her, it’ll be a different story. 

 Continuing, she says, “I think I would be a little more satisfied if you did this professionally as opposed to underground. Underground doesn’t come with insurance, Ren.”

 “Aw, you care about me that much?” My question was supposed to be posed as a joke, but the look on her pretty face says otherwise. 

 “Fucking asshole. I don’t know why I still deal with your ass.”

 “Probably because you love me.”

 “Probably not.”

  Gripping her hips, I pull her with me and lean back into the headrest of the couch. We’re inches away from our mouths cooling and I take advantage of this proximity by basking in her sweet smelling breath and beauty. 

 Simply because Y/N exists, my cocks hardens for her. Holding her in my arms. Feeling her pussy against my erection and breasts suffocating pressed on my chest. Girlfriend or not, she’s mine.  

 And she knows it. 

 I can see how she looks at me, even when mad, that she cares and loves me. Y/N is a tough girl. I can only imagine what she’s been through. Still, she manages to soften up just for me. 

 We never made it official since she doesn’t approve of the underground shit, but that doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop asking. 

 “So when are you going to say yes to being my girlfriend?” I whisper.

 She tries breaking from my embrace, but I tighten my grip. “Renji…”

 “You feel my dick pressed against you, right? It only makes it harder when you say my name like that, Y/N.”

 “Be real with me… will you keep doing this shit forever?” Her eyes waver as she awaits my answer and I can’t help the guilt from pinging my chest. 

 “If it lessens my chance of being with you, no.”

 She searches my face for hesitance or deceit, however, she finds nothing because I meant what I said. Y/N is the only person that looks at me like I’m a human, and I wouldn’t let my obsession with fighting get in the way of our future together. 

 How she tucks her coil behind her ear and nips down on her lower lip shows me the bit of vulnerability she reserves for me.

 So—I take advantage of it. 

 In less than three seconds my lips were on hers. I take my time relishing those sweet, plump and plush, strawberry flavored lips.

 I can feel the skepticism from Y/N while kissing her, maybe because she’s trying to put on this show that she’s still mad at me. But soon, her rigid body melts into mine and returns the kiss. 

 Our heavy breaths mingle, increasing in speed the more aggressive we lock lips. She begins rolling her hips onto my cock and I let out a grunt, feeling the moisture of her pussy liquefying on me. 

 The slaps I leave on her ass are harsh, causing her to bite my bottom lip and suck it into her mouth. Y/N is so fucking aggressive it drives me nuts. She gives me a high and adrenaline not even a fight could give. 

 “Pull your dick out, Ren,” she orders through muffled moans and our kiss. 

 “Fucking bossing me around to give you cock? Not mad at me anymore?” Y/N ignores my taunt and works her hands between us to untie my sweats. I hiss at the feel of her cool hands engulfing my dick to give it a few pumps.

 She must not know what her touch does to me. She handles my cock like she owns it, and gosh, I fucking love that shit. My fingers gently tangle into her coils to deepen our kiss, but she soon gets up to strip her clothes.

 Fuck… Fuck, she’s so goddamn sexy. I’ll never get tired of her thick body, filled with soft dips and curves. I look at her, observe her like she’s an expensive piece of art hung up at a museum because that’s what I see her as. 

 Pretty pussy leaking arousal and I smirk to myself, thinking how she had all that attitude earlier while being wet for me like she didn’t want me inside of her.

 “You’re fucking beautiful. You know that?” I ask, massaging her tits and looking up at her. “You still have that attitude or are you going to come ride my cock like a good girl?”

 She gently pushes me back against the couch with her lips on mine and straddles my lap. “Depends on if you’re going to be a good boy and take this pussy.”

 “Shit, angel. I will.”

 Y/N hums while reaching around to align my cock with her sex. Two seconds later, she slowly sinks down my length until I’m buried into the hilt. That soft lingering fuck that slips past her pretty lips sounds sexy as hell and has my dick twitching in response.

 I can’t bust now. Not yet. Even if the tightness and heat of her pussy pushes me off the edge of a mountain. Her pussy is so warm, so fucking warm, fat, and wet. Gosh, I don’t ever think I can be without this pussy. 

 I throw my head back and savor this feeling, but Y/N had other plans for me. 

 “Remember to look at me when I’m riding you, Ren,” she coos. “Eyes on me, baby. I want you to see how much I love this dick inside my pussy.”

 Fucking Christ. “Tell me how much you love it while bouncing on me.”

 And she does just that. Telling me how big and girthy I am, that she’s sorry for giving me attitude and admits that she just wanted dick. But no. I want her to fuck me like she’s mad. I need that type of energy pumping through my veins after this win tonight. 

 I reassure Y/N and tell her to fuck me harder. Her pace quickens and slaps her ass fervently against my cock. I can’t stop moaning her name. The wet slippery noises coming from her pussy increases in volume and it creates a mess between us. 

 This is where I belong, deep in her pussy and feeling her walls squeeze the hell out of me. I don’t even hold her hips or waist. I relax comfortably with my arms sprawl over the top of her couch, watching how gorgeous she looks while fucking what’s hers. 

 “Oh, fuck, Renji,” she moans, tugging her lips inwards and lolling her head to the side in complete pleasure.

 Those perfect, full tits bounces in my face and I can’t help but stare and become mesmerized. Light marks that resemble tiger stripes decorated the valley of breasts. Her nipples, pebbled and straining underneath my gaze, look desperate for my touch.

 I take it upon myself to pinch them between my fingers and a soft shriek escapes her mouth, further arching her back. 

 Y/N keeps getting wetter by the second, every bounce she makes. And hearing her sticky arousal, I know and see how she’s creaming my cock.  Purposely, I sit myself on the couch, thrusting up in her a bit to feel my head hit her g spot.

 “Ren, help me little,” she begs through a whimper. “Fuck me back.”

 I caress her cheeks with the back of my head. “Yeah? You want me to help you, sweetheart?”

 “Please.”

 God, I love it when she’s needy for me like this. 

 In no time, my hands are at her waist and my thrusts meet with her jumping movements. Y/N isn't loud when it comes to her sounds of pleasure. Vocal, yes. But right now, her moans and whimpers are louder than usual. 

 It’s like she needed my dick inside of pussy just as much as I needed it. 

 I see the desire in her brown hues. I feel the heat radiating off Y/N’s skin while my fingers dig into her flesh, holding her in place to pound upwards into her pussy. 

 This is what I wanted—to fuck my girl after a well deserved win. And she’s going to congratulate me how I want. 

 My lips are at her neck leaving wet kisses and sucking her flesh until purple specks form. “Coming home to this good fucking pussy. Gosh, I love how you feel, angel. Going to fucking mean it now when you say congrats?”

 “Congratulations, baby,” she purrs, slamming harder on my cock. “You did good… so damn good, Ren.”

 I hum, dragging my tongue along her neck. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

 Y/N continues to gasps out her pleas for me to fuck harder. I comply… I comply in helping my pretty girl come and savor the look when she washes over me. My grips are firm on her waist, betting that’ll leave marks when she wakes up the next poor, and drive my cock deeper into her pussy.

 I’m in pure awe. I feel my own releasing catching up to me the more I watch her take me. This is my woman. My fucking girl. I come home to this every night after every fight to hold her in my arms and fuck her. 

 Her name from my mouth sounds like a broken record when I moan her name. This fat, gushy, slick and tight pussy has this power over me. She won’t stop fucking squeezing me, I can’t prevent my face from growing hot. It’s intense how I feel right now, and it’s all because of Y/N.

 “Good, good fucking pussy. God, you’re so fucking good to me, angel face,” I rasp, pecking her lips. “You’re going to come for me?”

 “Yes, Renji, baby. I’m going to come. Keep giving me that dick. Please don’t stop, please.”

 “Put your fingers in my mouth.” She does quick with my command. I suck on her digits and coat them well with saliva before pushing them out of my mouth. “Now rub your clit, pretty girl. I wanna see you squirt everywhere.”

 Because she’s overwhelmed with arousal, Y/N stops bouncing on my cock and allows me to fuck her while she plays with clit. Her mouth hangs gape, drool slightly coating the side of her mouth and breathing heavily. 

 My balls slap her ass. My head kisses her soft cushion repeatedly. Her velvet walls transfer warmth to my cock and the bubble that rests in the pit of my stomach is on the verge of explosion.

 I’m about to come. Hard.

 But I need her to come first.

 “Fucking come for me, Y/N. Keep playing with that pretty pussy and moan my name,” I grit out, pushing past all my thrusts. 

 “Right there, Renji. Keep fucking me right there… I’m–oh, fuck–I’m coming.”

 She’s so pretty when she comes. Dark brown porcelain complexion, slick with sweat. Eyes rolling to the back of her head. Pussy clenching and unclenching around my cock. Moaning, whimpering my name back to back. 

She’s breathless. Flawless. I have this image of her painted perfectly in my mind. Watching Y/N come, makes me come, so I make quick work to pull her off my lap. And she knows exactly what I want–to fuck my release down her throat.

 Her mouth is as warm as her pussy, and I let out hitched breaths and harsh grunts when she swallows me whole. I’m relentless when forcing her head down on my cock as I facefuck her. The gurgling noises she makes are obscene. Pornogrpahic, even. 

 And what caused my come to shoot through her mouth is seeing that she’s still massaging her clit, eventually squirting all over her wooden floors. 

 My hips stutter and I throw my head back to moan into the air. “Fuck, Y/N! That’s my fucking girl. Look at you making a mess while choking on my cock and swallowing my come.”

 Y/N takes it upon herself to wrap her lips tighter around my cock and massage my balls, ensuring every single last of my nut has released in her mouth. I take it for a while, but I soon become sensitive, practically feeling my skin being sucked off.

 “Easy now, angel,” I say through an airy chuckle. I pull my cock out and her mouth echoes a pop sound. 

 She whines a little because I’m no longer in her mouth and it causes me to smirk because it wasn’t too long ago where she acted like she hated me. 

 My hand grasps her chin and guides it upwards to meet with my eyes. “You swallowed for me, Y/N? Open up.” She nods, sticking her tongue out. “Perfect.”

 “You’re going to fuck me again?” She asks, catching her bottom lip between her teeth.”

 Gosh, this woman will be the death of me.

tags: @dejwrld @hvshinas @diamondoidxx @xxjazzxx @thegirlwonder1 @ryukenzz @maiapuhpaia @elitesanjisimp @amyrahrose @sweetpeachies @abigolemess @linastired @diorsbrando @starrygetou @niya729 (if i didn't tag you it's because tumblr wouldn't have your user pop up)

[thefoxholecast]

The Original Foxhole Court Extra Content (Archived from Nora Sakavic’s Tumblr)

We copied the following text directly from the pre-2024 version of the Foxhole Court Extra Content page on Nora Sakavic’s Tumblr blog (korakos.tumblr.com/fox). In March 2024, she did “some spring cleaning” by shortening the list of links and deleting/hiding old posts. The links in this copy lead to archived snapshots of the old posts on the Internet Archive Wayback Machine.

Some of the links are broken. If you have copies of these posts, please let us know so we can fill in missing content!

Because Tumblr only allows up to 100 links per post, we're unable to replicate the full list here. View the full list of links on our blog here: thefoxholecast.tumblr.com/FoxArchive

The Foxhole Court

ETA 2023: most of the posts here are from 2013-2015. Some of them overlap with older drafts. Some answers have evolved over time, even if they haven’t been updated here. Most I haven’t changed my mind on, for better or worse. Take ‘em or leave ‘em, and good luck making sense of ‘em around all the drunk rambling and detours. One day if I have the energy I’ll just sort it into a coherent reference.

~~

Two sections here: the questions submitted by tumblr users, and a miscellaneous collection of stories & factoids pulled from the oft-neglected blog. The questions aren’t in any particular order, though I did try to organize them by subject matter. Ish. Once the dust is settled a bit I’ll try to find a better sorting system. Also, the tumblr tag I use for questions is http://korakos.tumblr.com/tagged/foxhole-court-questions-and-spoilers

Lots of spoilers for The Foxhole Court ahead!

Preface: Why are Asks disabled in 2016?

COURTING MADNESS

—Exy Rules & Regulations

—Exy: A History of the Sport

—Palmetto State University

—The original “What Happens After King’s Men” post

—SON NEFES, the cousins’ freshman year through Renee’s eyes

——One . Two . Three . Four . Five

—Nicky Hemmick

—Seth Gordon

—Aaron Minyard

—Matt Boyd

—Kevin & Andrew

—David Wymack & the Monsters

—Wymack & Andrew re: Neil

—Dan Wilds is recruited to the Foxes *

—Allison through Dan & Renee’s eyes *

——pulled from an abandoned, unfinished book about the Foxes’ women

TUMBLR

NEIL

—Neil’s life on the run

—Do they ever celebrate Neil’s birthday?

—What if Neil told the truth earlier?

—Neil through the Foxes’ eyes

—Neil through Ichirou’s eyes

—Neil’s looks post-book and relationship with his reflection

—Does Neil ever talk to Bee?

—Neil’s millions

—Neil’s fight training

—Who’s Neil closest to beside Andrew

—Neil’s fashion style

—Cellphone ringtone

—Christmas/birthday presents for Foxes

—Does Neil ever cry?

—Neil’s lonely fifth year

—When Neil’s overwhelmed

—Does Neil crush on his teammates?

—Neil & Ichirou’s intimidation

ANDREW

—Andrew’s sober look at his teammates & Neil

—How did Andrew react to Cass’s letter?

—Andrew’s medication and the follow-up

—Has Abby seen Andrew’s scars?

—Andrew & Mama Bee

—Andrew & Roland

—How far has Andrew willingly gone?

—What animal figurine did Andrew buy Betsy?

—Andrew’s eye color

—Andrew’s opinion of the cats

—What’d Andrew say to Nicky in TKM?

—Andrew’s honest opinion of Exy

—Andrew’s thoughts on Neil’s binder

—Andrew and his sexuality

—If Andrew had met Neil’s mother

—Andrew’s thoughts on Neil’s sexuality

—Andrew’s fondest memory of Neil

—Andrew’s aforementioned withdrawal

—Do you think Andrew is really really really awesome?

—Proust and Andrew

—What happens to Proust?

—Andrew’s reaction to Neil’s bday blood

—Andrew on Neil eventually changing out

—Does Andrew get grumpy?

—Does Andrew get less dead inside?

—Does Andrew call Neil by his name?

—Why give the Foxes crackers?

—Andrew’s first choices in winning a fight

—Who liked knives?

—What got chopped from Drake’s arc?

—Does Andrew get off thinking about Neil?

—Post Andrew & Bee’s side story?

—When did Andrew start thinking Neil was interesting?

—Any other words he can’t stand?

—What does he think about nicknames?

—Explain Andrew’s fatal disease in the comic version

—Andrew’s canon mental state

—How did Andrew not know about Tilda’s abuse?

—Why punch Neil for “Sorry”, and when Andrew is sick

—What’s with Andrew and promises

—Andrew’s thoughts on Roland’s premature confession

—Andrew’s arrest

—Wanting nothing vs not wanting anything

—Why was Andrew laughing after Drake?

—If Neil had chosen Dan & Matt over Andrew

NEIL & ANDREW

—The other 10%

—Which teammate caught on first?

—Do Andrew & Neil go on dates?

—When did they first hold hands?

—When did Andrew clue in?

—Exites self-censure

—Betsy’s & Aaron’s reactions to the news

—Roland’s opinion of things

—The breaking point

—Who tops?

—On tying people up

—Their domestic life aka Sir Fat Cat

—I love you

—Andrew and the bed issue

—Nightmares

—Do they learn to talk to each other?

—Blaming Neil for Drake

—Andrew comforting Neil?

—Neil’s fondest memory of Andrew

—Neil getting Andrew off for the first time

—Neil seeing Andrew naked

—Neil & the sex how-to

—How was the first time

—Where’d it happen?

—When was their first hug?

—“I won’t let you let me be”

—Their roadtrips

—Neil waking Andrew up

—Andrew’s real smile

—How does Andrew show appreciation for Neil

—Their happiest moments

—Does Neil ever make Andrew laugh?

—Does Andrew take comfort in Neil

—Does Andrew get protective/possessive?

—Doesn’t Neil crave affection?

—Andrew re: Neil’s panic attacks

—Media reaction to Andrew/Neil

—Further reaction to Andrew/Neil

—On “accidentally” sitting in laps

—What if Andrew died?

—What if Neil died?

—Reaction to getting hit on by others

—Do they celebrate anniversaries?

—The first time Neil pushes Andrew down

FOXES

—How tall are the Foxes?

—Why is everyone so short?

—Where did their names come from?

—What were their majors?

—What do the Foxes look like?

—What are their Hogwarts houses?

—Reaction to the kidnapping

—Do Neil & Renee become friends?

—What did Allison do with Seth’s urn?

—Nicky’s evolution over the drafts

—Do the Foxes get their skiing trip?

—Does Andrew know Nicky kissed Neil?

—When did Aaron & Katelyn fall for each other?

—How did Andrew and Wymack end up handcuffed together?

—Kevin’s favorite things

—Kevin and Andrew’s on-court kerfuffle

—Dan’s haircut

—Dan & Matt’s relationship

—Dan & Matt’s first kiss

—Matt bouncing back from Columbia

—Matt rooming with the monsters

—The other what-if OT3 aka D/M/N and the dynamic

—Do Allison and Renee have the hots for each other?

—Matt forgiving his father

—Any mistletoe shenanigans?

—Thanksgiving and the Foxes

—Kevin’s best friend

—Janie Smalls

—How did Kevin and Thea meet?

—Foxes’ favorite ice cream flavors

—Kevin & Andrew’s on-court argument

—Foxes’ taste in music

—Kevin’s middle name & drink of choice

—Do Kevin & Neil want to kiss?

—Which Fox would Kevin kiss, then?

—Kevin’s best non-Exy memory

—Allison’s three bets

—Why is Allison’s middle name Jamaica

—Kevin, Andrew, and Neil staying friends

—“Joan of Exy”?

—Can the Foxes sing?

—Some of the Foxes’ previous bets

—Do Nicky & Allison become friends?

—Are Foxes based on RL people?

—Nicky when Neil asks about friendship

—Dan & the monsters in Columbia

—What if Kevin was killed?

—Renee and her near-death experiences

—More background available on Renee?

—Why doesn’t Aaron let the Foxes in?

—Team’s reaction to Drake, Andrew’s reaction to being outed

—Andrew & Aaron’s time with Tilda

—Does Aaron reconcile with Andrew over Tilda?

—Nicky & his parents after Drake

—Foxes thoughts in Baltimore

FOXES POST-TKM

—The Pro Teams

—The Weddings

—Neil as the Best Man?

—Kevin after TKM —Thea, Jean, Foxes, and Riko

—How does Kevin & Wymack’s relationship evolve?

—Renee after TKM

—Nicky after TKM

—Aaron after TKM

—Allison after TKM

—Dan & Matt after TKM

—Dan and the US Court

—Any pro-period scandals?

—Andrew & Neil’s relationship with their team

—Would Neil hold Matt’s children?

—Neil & babysitting the Foxes’ kids

—Which Fox’s child would curse first

THE FUTURE FOXES

—Who is Robin Cross?

—Neil and Jack

—Andrew’s reaction to Neil punching Jack

—Foxes’ reaction to Neil punching

—Kevin and Jack

—Neil’s new recruit

—Andrew and Jack

RIVALS

—Who is Riko Moriyama?

—Riko & Kevin’s evolving relationship

—More about Riko & Kevin’s past

—How did Riko break Kevin’s hand

—Riko’s brutality toward Jean

—Any draft where Riko wasn’t killed?

—Were Riko, Kevin, and Jean involved sexually?

—Does the Fox-Trojan rematch happen? Also how do the Trojans & Jean get along?

—Do Alvarez & Laila (Trojans) have backstories?

—Thea’s number & thoughts on Raven brutality

THE “ADULTS”

—Kayleigh Day & David Wymack

—Abby Winfield & David Wymack

—Wymack’s parents

—Did Wymack cry during the trilogy?

—Did Kayleigh know about the Moriyamas?

.

.

.

.

Nora & the Foxes

—Fancast and Andrew

—Changing opinion of Foxes over the years

—Bits of the scrapped K/N/A threesome here and here

—The KxAxN AU where Kevin died

—Will there be a sequel?

—What inspired you to develop Exy?

—Fox fanfictions, collected by coldsaturn

—Why a pseudonym?

—What came first, characters or story?

—Were you the artist of the comic version?

—What did the comic-Foxes look like?

—What do you do when you’re not writing?

[wildemaven]

meant to be | javier peña

-> pairing: javier peña x f!reader

-> wc: 1645

-> content warnings: 18+ blog; domestic javi, established relationship, unprotected p in v, fluff, talks of starting a family, reader has zero descriptive features

-> a/n: this was posted on my other account and i am moving it here now. it is also a rewrite of an older fic i did with frankie.

masterlist

Fall is settling in nicely in Texas. The days are still warm, but the weekends no longer hold as much daylight as they did weeks ago. 

Everything transitioning into its autumnal journey, your yard drenched in rustic hues and sunshine. 

You and Javier both loved taking advantage of the nicer weather, wanting to soak up as much of it as possible before the shift into a colder season, deciding to spend your evenings on the patio as the days wound down and the sun set behind the pasture on the west side of the ranch.  

Chores were the first thing that needed to be tackled. Divide and conquer seemed to work well for you both. You took on the inside duties of laundry, dusting, and food prep, while Javier managed the outside— mowing, tree trimming, truck washing. 

Bed made with clean sheets, a load of dirty clothes placed into the washer– the previous load hung in the backyard on the clothesline, dinner prepared and waiting– your list of to-do’s dwindling as the day went on. Now you find yourself planted at the sink of dirty dishes, your kitchen window a front row seat to the old barn, your eyes glued on your husband as he washes his truck. 

His striped sky blue shirt encapsulates every detail of his back, sleeves tight around the bulk of his arms, muscles flexing as he scrubs the soapy sponge back and forth across the metal surface– and you thank whoever designed his well-fitted jeans.  A week's worth of dirt slowly slid off the sides of the old ranch truck, a prized possession that had been passed down from Chucho when Javier had decided to take on more responsibilities around the ranch. 

It has been two years since moving into the home Javier grew up in, wanting something big with the hopes of starting a family in the future. Chucho insisted you both move in, stating the house was far too big for just him— he moved into the ranch’s guest house down the dirt road. Memories tucked to every corner of the house, old family photos still hanging in the very spot his Mama placed them.

Javier must sense he’s being watched when he turns towards the kitchen window, catching your eyes on him. His gaze lingers a bit, soap and water dripping from the sponge in his large hand. He shoots you a wink with a smile that makes you instantly weak. 

“Shit!” The mug you had been washing slips from your soapy hands into the water below, water splashing back at you, soaking the thin material of your dress, your attention drawn back to the sink and the remaining dishes. Somehow Javier still makes you flustered after all these years with just a simple look thrown your way. 

Glancing back out the window again to find Javier is no longer there, the suds freely dripping off the truck door and sponge discarded on the ground. The creak of the screen door lets you know exactly where your husband is as you proceed to dry the drinking glasses and place them in the cupboard. His shuffling around in the living room does little to help you know what he’s up to. 

“Javi?” You call out to him as you finish putting away the last of the plates and bowls, wiping the counter off before you go in search of your husband. 

The slight crackle of a record starting makes you aware of his location– the living room. His old collection of records and record player had been boxed away in the attic after he moved away. Last Spring, while you were putting away the winter blankets, you stumbled upon his music collection– something from nearly every genre. You pulled everything down one weekend while he was busy in town with Chucho, having everything set up on the bookcase and a record going when he got home. It became a habit that one of you would slip on a new record, windows open allowing the breeze to carry the songs throughout the house. 

A familiar tune begins, it instantly brings a smile to your face.

“Wise men say...”

The low timber of his voice sends a tingle down your spine any time he sings your wedding song. For such a reserved man, who refuses to indulge in karaoke, he jumps at any chance to serenade you within the walls of your home— one of the many things you love about him.

A set of arms wrap around you, welcoming you back from your walk down memory lane, pulling you against his chest as he begins to move about the kitchen with you. Your bodies swaying together as the music continues, his face nuzzled in close to your cheek as he hums along with the song.

“Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be…”

Your body leans into him, the rest of the chores fully abandoned as you both waver about the kitchen, savoring how easy it is to create new memories in your home.

“You sure know how to get out of chores Peña.” You tell him just as he spins you around so you’re facing him, looping your arms around his neck while his hands settle on your back— Javier singing along completely ignoring your comment. 

“If I’m not mistaken Querida, I’m pretty sure you were hardly putting an effort into yours.” He teases you before grabbing your hand to send you twirling around. You can’t contain your laughter, living for these spontaneous moments of ease with the man you’re so completely head over heels for. Your body is pulled back into his, resuming the energetic flow between the two of you. A sweet rhythm of bliss now strumming through your body as you melt into his arms. 

“Hmm, I don’t know what you’re talking about…” Hiding your smirk into his warm neck, knowing full well what he’s referring to. 

“That wasn’t you gawking at me through the window—“

“I was not gawking, Javi!” As you playfully pat his chest. “I was just admiring the view.” 

“You were in fact gawking. I think I clocked you at 10 minutes from the first moment I noticed you hadn’t moved.”

“You are so exaggerating!” He’s definitely not wrong though, it’s hard to pull your eyes away from such a thing of beauty. 

“How about we take this to the bedroom, Querida– and I’ll show you exaggeration!” He taunts into your ear. 

 “Javier! Your truck is half washed in the driveway— and I know you’re going to be pissed about the soap drying on it right now. Plus, I already made the bed.” 

He’s dragging you back towards the stairs that lead to the bedroom, his infectious smirk displayed across his stupid handsome face, your body doing little to stop itself from his magnetic pull. 

“I’ll just wash it again. I’ll even set a chair up for you to admire up close. Get you one of those ice cold beers too.” He says as he falls back into the bed, pulling your body on top of his. 

“And I’m pretty sure this won’t be the last time we dirty these sheets this weekend…” His voice muffled against your neck, his lips planting kiss after kiss as he pleads his case– you easily succumb to his antics.

His hands work at the line of buttons that trail down the front of your dress, your own undoing his buckle before working at the button and zipper of his jeans– he hisses as your hands hastily move over bugle straining behind his jeans. 

Your dress is open and hanging off your shoulders as you slowly sink down on Javier’s cock, the stretch of him a welcomed adjustment, his length hitting something delicious as you settle at the base of him. 

“Fuck, Javi!!” Hands splayed over Javier’s firm chest for support, your head thrown back as a rapturous whine pours out into the room, a slight bounce to your breasts as you move— the cups of your bra pulled down, the cool air has your nipples pebbled and tight. Javier is taken by your angelic state— you're a sight to be seen. 

Javier’s fingers are digging into the meat of your thighs, the slow stuttering roll of your hips as you move over his cock has him worked up faster than he has anticipated. 

“Querida— Shit! Baby, I’m not gonna last— you look so good riding my cock like that!” His hips bucking up at the feeling of your cunt clenching around him. 

“I’m right there with you, Amor!” 

A few swipes over your throbbing clit and a string of quick thrusts, both of you cresting the euphoric peak in unison. 

You collapse on top of Javier, a strong arm wraps around your waist, a hand cupping your neck, Javier determined to keep you as close as possible— you fully melting into his touch. 

Breathing ragged and hearts racing— bodies perfectly satiated and filled with an intense love for each other. 

“I should probably get up and get dinner started. That should be plenty of time for you to rewash the truck.” You don’t show any signs of actually doing so, too relaxed to care about finishing the rest of your chores. 

“Or— we can just lay here a little longer. Save the food and truck washing for tomorrow. We can go into town later and get dinner instead.”

“A man after my heart. I’d marry you if I wasn’t already.” He rolls you off him onto your back, hands roaming over your dewy skin as he kisses you slowly. 

The lull of the record player echoes through the house as the music fades out, clothes and sheets are thrown about the bedroom, the day’s plans forgotten as you both seek out a more exhilarating afternoon. 

[iaure]

𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁; 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟthe dearest collection - part one/beloved 𓆩♡𓆪 part two/prized 𓆩♡𓆪 part three/devoted 𓆩♡𓆪 part four/desperate 𓆩♡𓆪 part five/blind 𓆩♡𓆪 part six/watcher 𓆩♡𓆪 part seven/ardor 𓆩♡𓆪 part eight/fervor this is very heavily inspired by @//clusterfuck-yandere's yandere leon headcanons; please check out their works. this is something of a love letter to their puppy obsession series.

yandere leon s. kennedy headcanons; reader is a survivor of raccoon city.

tw: general yandere behaviour, NSFW (leon has an erotic daydream/slight somnophilia + it is marked by a large page marker like the one below), stalking, ptsd, mentions of mourning

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ i am very excited for part four! this one was much longer than the rest; this makes me happy. i may potentially take a slight break from this as i want to see where i want to take this small series; i want to deliver the best product i can to all of you ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ i also want to take time to create my own persona for this blog; i am thinking a sheep. what do you think? ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝•༝•⸝⸝ᐢ꒱⸒���

he'd been getting worse.

♡ the truth of the matter was that this was an addiction.

♡ Leon could manage to quit smoking. but this was entirely different. how do you quit someone?

♡ and it's not like it was hard to love you.

♡ gaining entry into your home wasn't difficult. you kept a spare key above the doorframe, and Leon was always careful to replace it.

♡ your apartment always smelled of you, felt like you, and whenever he went in, he couldn't help but imagine a life where he lived with you-as your boyfriend. Your fiancé? Your husband, if he dared.

♡ and he made sure to take care of you, even if you didn't know!

♡ he knew how hard it was for you to take care of yourself, especially with your work.

♡ when he saw that you had made yourself a list of things to do, he was so proud!

♡ he knew you were taking steps to live better. what was wrong with helping, just a little bit?

♡ a dish here, a wipedown there, a dusting every now and then. small things.

♡ he'd made a handful of habits, such as watching you sleep or snagging the occasional piece of clothing for his own purposes.

♡ your closet had just enough space for him to stow away if you ever showed signs of waking up.

♡ you were just too sweet. obsession was staring down Leon's love, and you didn't even know it.

how was he supposed to stay away?

♡ as for your work, Loen had made his peace with it.

♡ as alarming as it was that you were in possible danger every day, it also meant that you were happier, getting more sunshine, and the opportunity to get yourself nice things.

♡ your happiness always came first, after all.

♡ secondly was the blessing that Leon got that was seeing you whenever he could, just by strutting down from his gym and watching you brew some sort of ridiculous concoction.

♡ overall, your work was more positives than anything. besides, Leon could simply watch you walk to and fro from work to make sure you were safe.

♡ his perception of you had completely expanded as well.

♡ back then, on the AOL forum, he only knew a few vaguely scattered personal details that you'd hint at in posts and comments, mentioned offhand, like your brother.

♡ but now, he knew so much more.

♡ he knew your favourite colours, foods, hobbies, who you liked, who you didn't, what you thought about your work, your opinions on just about anything-you'd share them if he simply asked.

♡ you were so sweet, so clueless, and he loved it.

♡ you would spend hours with Leon simply talking about little to nothing, and it meant everything to him.

♡ you were so kind, so soft, and every word that fell from your lips was divine.

♡ for the last two weeks, he'd been as sneaky as he possibly could.

but you were bound to take notice.

♡ he was hanging out with you as you closed the bakery, counting out the tills and setting aside the deposits. Leon was simply happy to be in your presence.

♡ you began speaking about how you felt unsafe, about how you felt someone staring at you in the night.

♡ instantly, Leon felt guilty.

♡ he didn't mean to scare you. he was trying to protect you, for goodness' sake!

♡ he wasn't frustrated with you, though. of course. he never would be. you were perfect and did no wrong.

♡ he wished there was some way that he could convey he didn't want to hurt you on those nights where he made sure you were safe, but nothing seemed like a good idea.

♡ the guilt chewed away at his insides until you asked him that...holy, divine question.

"would you walk me home?"

♡ he might've gotten on his knees and wept.

♡ what opportunity was this? walking next to your warm body, in the rain, under an umbrella...almost like a couple.

♡ the idea sent Leon's heart into overdrive, pounding in his ears as all sorts of ideas filled his head.

♡ upon his enthusiastic agreement, your face filled with comfort, and Leon couldn't help but feel a bit delighted.

♡ he didn't care if he was going to get soaked. as you locked the door to the bakery, he took care to cover you entirely with the umbrella. you asked him if he was cold at all, but no. the heat of your body was enough to light him on fire.

♡ Leon was in heaven.

♡ during the whole walk, he made sure to keep an eye out on the off chance that there were bad actors around. he even made a show of whipping his head back and forth, which he knew you noticed.

♡ and several times, you laughed. oh, what a sweet angelic sound.

♡ how he wished this walk could last forever; your hand brushing against his, the gentle lull of your voice as you made conversation.

♡ he wasn't sure which god or entity or spirit or soul he pleased, but he was thanking all of them.

♡ when the two of you reached your apartment, he could feel himself deflate a bit. he was so endlessly grateful for the time you gave him, but he dared to want more.

♡ he knew he wouldn't be satiated, no matter what you did. but he could hope. he could pray.

♡ whatever prayer he said worked; you turned with an almost guilty look-as though you could ever be guilty-and asked him if he wanted to see the inside of your apartment.

♡ he practically cheered.

♡ when you turned to finish opening the door, he couldn't help a low whine from leaving his throat. his chest was tight, his heart was pounding, and it was like all his dreams were coming true.

♡ he had seen your apartment dozens of times. at that point, every photo and speck of dust had their locations memorised.

♡ spending time alone, with you, in your apartment, with your scent and your signs of life surrounding him might've even been too much to bear.

♡ but he accepted, because what insanity would it be for him to say no? what lunacy would have to possess him?

♡ upon stepping in, he did everything a polite guest should do; took off his shoes, set his bag and umbrella down, and proceeded to try and shake off the excess water.

♡ your laugh at his shake made his heart swell.

♡ you were trying to dig for food, and you had bent over at the waist; it made Leon delirious.

♡ he couldn't not stare.

♡ you either didn't notice or didn't mind, because you gave up, ordering a pizza instead.

♡ he tried to pay-this was dreamy enough, you didn't need to do anything else-but you insisted, saying it was your way of thanking him.

♡ thanking him? for what could you possibly be thanking him for? that walk was no burden, it was a blessing. why would you need to thank him?

but you refused his money.

♡ he felt guilty, but you turned on your TV and began watching some romantic sitcom that he'd never heard of before.

♡ was it a sign? Leon couldn't tell.

♡ the peace was domestic, crumbling away at Leon's self-restraint. why couldn't every day be like this?

♡ if he just told you, then you'd understand. you would forgive him. you would hold him close.

♡ his mind began to wander. did you think of him like that? did you even consider him as a romantic interest?

♡ would you? if he asked?

♡ the question, confession, was on the tip of his tongue.

♡ you were good. you were kind. you wouldn't be creeped out.

♡ he opened his mouth, and-

the power went out.

♡ his heart dropped to his toes, and all the courage he managed to muster disappeared as you got up to light some candles.

♡ he went back to his bag, rummaging for his military-grade flashlight that he kept on hand.

♡ he'd rather you have it, than something go wrong and you stumble in the dark.

♡ he'd rather walk home in the pouring rain than you risk anything for a second.

♡ you lit a handful of candles, setting them aside as he passed the flashlight off to you.

♡ he figured it was time to go, licking his wounds and dragging his pride and courage behind him.

♡ but you didn't say goodbye.

♡ instead, you asked where he lived. his heart seized.

♡ he could do two things from here. one, admit that he lived maybe a fifteen minute walk away.

♡ or he could lie.

♡ he knew how your heart worked, for the most part. you felt like you were in debt. you wouldn't make him walk back in the rain.

♡ so he could pretend that he lived far away, even by car. he could just...manipulate you.

♡ after a beat too long, he made his choice.

♡ he 'confessed' that he lived thirty minutes from his gym, which was ten from the bakery, which was five from your apartment.

♡ and he could see you think in real time.

♡ your eyes flickered from the door, to his still-damp hair, to the half-eaten pizza on the counter, to the flashlight.

♡ and god, the guilt was going to eat him alive.

♡ he knew you were kind. he knew you were soft. and he abused that. he abused your sweetness and goodness. for what? his sick kicks?

♡ but your pretty lips pursed, and they formed around those words that he wanted-no, needed-so desperately.

would you want to stay the night?

♡ the guilt disappeared, his heart wept for joy!

♡ yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, a thousand times, yes! always! yes!

♡ you seemed relieved, disappearing into your room and coming out with men's pyjamas.

♡ they were a little snug on Leon, hanging a bit low, but he certainly didn't mind. this was effectively the greatest task of his life.

♡ he had to be a viable partner for you. he had to show his worth.

♡ you were quick to go to bed. with the power still out, you clearly just wanted to wait it out.

♡ Leon pulled a blanket out of his bag, but you insisted on giving him several more, as well as a pillow.

♡ and oh god, how was he supposed to control himself? they all smelled like you.

♡ maybe he'd take one in the morning. for safekeeping.

♡ as he lay on your couch, the thought crossed his mind to wander while you were asleep, to see everything with the daring of you being inside your own home.

♡ but he knew better. or, at least, he thought he did.

♡ ten minutes turned into thirty. thirty turned into an hour, turned into two, into four, before he finally cracked.

♡ he literally had you at his fingertips, in a situation where he'd most likely be excused. he had to use it. he had to make the most of it.

♡ and, despite everything he could do...he wandered into your room. and he watched you.

♡ you snored, just a little bit. it was a cute snore that Leon liked. you also slept a bit erratically, sometimes throwing your body in weird positions.

♡ part of your blanket was on the floor, your head was between two pillows, and you were out like a light.

♡ or apparently not, because after about ten minutes of Leon standing there, you woke up abruptly. you gave a small gasp, bleary eyes still trying to grasp what you were seeing. you asked what he was doing.

♡ and what was he doing, honestly? he was watching you sleep. but he couldn't admit to that, not in a thousand years.

♡ so, he said the first thing that he could come up with, in a voice that lost every shred of pride he had left.

"i thought you were gone."

♡ and he can see the pity on your face, and he can't help but almost feel childish at how he hoped you'd comfort him.

♡ your eyes wandered over him, as though putting pieces together. you finally lay your head back down, and pat your bed.

♡ Leon goes into overdrive. again. for how many times this night were you going to do that? how many times were you going to make his heart leap into his throat?

♡ he, for a second, isn't sure what you want. there's no way you'd...

"do you want me to...sleep with you?"

♡ his voice was weak, and he asked, again, until you nodded. maybe you were just moving in your sleep. he asked another time. you nodded again. he asked once more. you said yes.

♡ he started shaking. his grip on your blanket was white-knuckled, his knees were ready to buckle, and the world was spinning.

♡ you did. you wanted to share your bed with him. you wanted to sleep with him. you want him. you wanted him!

♡ he gets into bed with you, gently setting the blanket over your body and trying to not freak out.

♡ you were so warm and so close to him. everything was invading his senses, and when you realised he was staring, you shot him a smile that turned his insides to goo.

♡ he had to take this chance. and he moved a little closer.

♡ you didn't move.

♡ and you were just so unguarded, so gentle. Leon's mind was wandering.

♡ what would you look like in a far more intimate scenario?

♡ what would your kisses look like? feel like?

♡ Leon squirmed a bit.

♡ what would your skin feel like? the skin that he couldn't touch? your neck, your stomach, your thighs...?

♡ his eyes wandered down the silhouette of your body under the covers.

♡ how would you feel underneath him? if he was touching your chest, suckling on your neck, leaving hickeys for everyone to see?

♡ how would you feel if he had his hands everywhere, pinned under his body and rutting into you?

♡ how would you act if he had his cock in you? how would you moan? would you try to close your eyes? or would you keep them open and watch how he loved you?

♡ would you be quick to orgasm? or would you take time, and Leon would be blessed to have your body for so long?

♡ he thought you would maybe try to cover yourself with your hands. you did seem the shy type. oh, but he'd be greedy, and he'd ask if you could move them-he wants to see all of you.

♡ he thinks that you'd be quiet at first, trying to stop yourself from being loud in case it woke your neighbours. but Leon would be in so deep into that tight, divine warmth, and you'd call out his name.

♡ and he'd swallow it. he'd take your lips in his and devour every gasp and moan that left your mouth.

♡ he'd never make you beg, either. he'd do everything to make you be so perfectly spent, fucked out of your mind and left limp on your bed. and even then, Leon wouldn't be satiated.

♡ he'd need more. he'd take you in his mouth, even if you had passed out, just to keep working you until your taste was all over his tongue. and when you woke up, he'd still be hard at work, trying to get more, begging for more.

♡ and maybe you'd decide to take him, instead, as thanks for taking care of you.

♡ you'd be on top of him, sucking sweetly at his cock, and he'd cry out your name with no inhibition. he didn't care about the people in your apartment complex. he just cared about you, and that you would know just how much he loved you.

♡ he'd fuck you for hours, days even, to finally have the curve of your body and the taste of your cum memorised.

♡ but let's be honest.

♡ he'd never have enough.

𓂋 ʚ♡ɞ taglist

@theybotomy ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @kujosuke

[whydidoth]

As someone who frankly watches too much hbomberguy, I was fairly startled by the tone he adopted in his latest video in regard to his own sexuality. He has been openly bisexual, coming out (as far as I’m aware) on his channel five years ago in a video on adaptations of HP Lovecraft, but his bisexuality overall hasn’t been particularly present. Even in instances like discussing the queerbaiting of Sherlock or the ability in Fallout to officially play as a bisexual character, he tends to approach the topics in such a way that if you didn’t already know his sexuality, you’d probably just assume he was a good ally. Genuinely, I would not be surprised if casual viewers of his channel had had no idea. I saw someone else suggest that he centered his own bisexuality so much at the start in order to dissuade accusations of him targeting Somerton for being gay. While I think this is certainly plausible, on a pure narrative level, I can’t help but see this most recent video as a book ends to his one on Lovecraft.

In that video, he talks about the value of adaptation and how adaptation at its best doesn’t recreate the work but is a response in concert with it. He speaks very personally about how the film Cthulu embodied the deep, crawling horror of being an outsider in a way that he resented as a kid. As a queer adult, he came back to find not only catharsis but also that it understood the essence of Lovecraft and of his own experience in a way he had been unable to when he was younger.

In his video on plagiarism, he emphasizes how the harm extends past the simple act of stealing someone else’s work, and how plagiarism goes on to suppress genuine dialogue among new voices with new ideas. In some regard, this is a direct response to his original thesis, and the response is one of despair. We are without adaptation. We are without queer voices and narratives.

This shouldn’t be where things end, and I don’t think he would have bothered uploading this video if he had seen no hope for things going differently in the future. I know it’s fun to revel in the scandal of this call-out, but ultimately, we’re witnessing a tragedy. In addition to supporting and giving small creators a shot, I think we should also take this as a chance to be less hesitant about promoting and sharing our own stories.

I have a youtube channel that’s been sitting in the corner collecting dust for a year now, but I’m going to try picking it up again. I’ll be putting a link to both hbomberguy’s video on Lovecraft and my own channel in the notes, and I would encourage everyone to similarly shamelessly self-promote in the comments—literally everything from soundcloud to twitch to personal blogs, go nuts. Let’s all make sure the future is over-saturated with authentic, marginalized voices, yeah?

[harleehazbinfics]

HOME IS WHERE MY HEART IS. (S1 FINALE)

Chapter 12: Our Deal Table of Contents | Profile

Word Count: 1400+ A/N: 😭 we're already done!! thank you sm for being part of the journey hngh, it's insane how much this blog has grown despite it just me spitting out random scenarios, this was my first series here. so im grateful to each and every one that has come with me in the process. every heart, comment and reblog made me happy. please enjoy the s1 finale! I'll be over my other works doing stuff so you can check them out here: link

“I need you to stay here,” I say holding Abby’s shoulders, “We can’t risk you getting caught in the crossfire. Promise me.”

She furrows here brows before nodding, “I understand.”

“Good,” I say firmly before kissing her cheek, “I love you so much.”

“Stay safe, mom,” she encourages with a smile.

I return it and give her crystal orb. “Here, you can have this. This can help you see what’s going on outside.”

She accepts and immediately inspects it. Her fingers brushing on the screen seeing her mother’s face in the orb as she was in real time. I gave a smile which was transmitted to the orb instantly. She slides on the orb one more time to her father, attending the speech Charlie was speaking. She hid it with the use of her powers and gives me one final hug.

“Dear, why don’t you join the other’s downstairs? You should get to know them better now that you decided on staying,” Alastor joins us and holds my waist with one hand and his microphone in the other.

“Oh! Right!” she enthusiastically runs down the hall and disappears.

“Gosh, where does she get that energy from,” I comment holding my cheek, feeling tired just looking at her. “That definitely wasn’t from me.”

Alastor laughs and gives me a kiss on the cheek before we follow after her slowly. He says this instead of answering, “As long as she’s happy that’s fine!”

I roll my eyes playfully at him and gazed at the group that gathered around the bar. I spot Abby holding a glass of orange juice trying to get closer to Cherri. I laugh at her actions, of course she chooses the coolest one to be her friend.

“Hi! I’m Abigail! You can just call me Abby,” she introduces holding out her hand.

“Uhh, sup? Name’s Cherri,” the pinkette answers reluctantly shaking her hand.

“Pleasure to meet you! We’ve met before but I never caught your name,” Abby asks the arachnid.

“Angel Dust. Angel’s fine, toots. Orange juice? What are you? 5?” Angel asks not exactly mocking her, but genuine confused by her choice.

“I’ve tried liquor before but it’s just not for me,” she replies not even bothered that she just got slighted.

“Fair enough,” Angel shrugs before walking to the bar to talk to Husk.

“So, uhh, your dad’s the radio demon?” Cherri asks trying to be polite.

“Indeed!” Abby answers enthusiastically, “We haven’t seen each other since I was a kid though.”

“Oh, why? What happened?” Cherri asks placing her drink down.

“He—uhh died when I was younger and by the time I was 15 I only had a few memories that I remember of him.”

“Oh shit. What about your mom though?”

“Mom also died when I was 14. So, I was on my own for a time in my life.”

“Well, at least we survived that shit. To being orphans!” Cherri exclaims raising her glass to Abby.

“Hurray?!” Abby panics confused and clinked their glasses together before doing the same as Cherri who downed her drink.

Alastor and I laugh while Niffty crawls on the railing between us.

“Ah, the celebratory night before a courageous last stand. It's been a surprising thrill to witness these wayward souls find connection. Almost makes one sentimental, eh, Niffty?”

 “I really like them, Alastor. They let me put on roach puppet shows without booing!” she replies enthusiastically, while I watched the two talk with a smile on my face.

“Ah, an enjoyable collective to be around. I admit one could get accustomed,” he sighs looking back down at them, particularly at Abby who was getting along with them quite well.

“I dub thee, King Roach,” NIffty proclaimed, putting on a bug crown on Alastor which he let her do and gave her a little bow.

“Oh, to understand your twisted little mind!” he comments before they started cackling where Alastor just played along with her. It made me sentimental of how he used to play house and have tea parties with Abby way back when.

Niffty scampers off with the other giving me the space and scoot over to him. “Will you be okay handling Adam?” I asked worriedly.

“It’ll be fine. I’ll be as careful as can. I’m not going to lose to him that easily,” he snorts, “You, however, I need you to back to me in one piece.”

I sighed and reminded him, “I think you forgot our deal, Al. I won’t exist if you don’t.”

He falls silent and tries to think. While I continue and place my hand on his chest, “You own my heart and my everything. This body beats for two. United as one, in sickness and in health—”

“Til’ death do us part,” we finish together. He wordlessly encases me in his arms and fall into a comfortable silence.

--timeskip

“Here they come. Get ready, everyone. We fight together!”

“Now! FOR YOUR SOULS!”

“Let's FUCK THEM UP!”

Alastor and I waited for them at the top of the hotel, watching as the angels begin their assault.

“Let the slaughter begin. AHAHAHAHAHAHA-HA!” Alastor yells swinging his microphone, summoning a black force field around us.

I left him and dove all the way from the rooftop and phasing to the floor, allowing me to transform into my giant demon form. With a terrifying grin and half lidded eyes that craved for chaos, I let out a shriek causing everyone to cover their ear giving Alastor to cut down the angels.

I raise my left and clenched it into a fist encasing every angel that aimed for me in a bubble immobilizing them, leaving them to Angel to shoot down. In that moment, Alastor’s shield disappeared leaving the silhouette of Adam with a sadistic smile.

He lounges for me while I only swiped him away with my hand causing him to tumble and crash on top of the hotel where Alastor was waiting for him. I left them and focused on helping the others, summoning my underlings to help the others.

After a while of killing angels, their numbers didn’t seem to waver making me curse under my breath feeling the weight of prolonging this fight for so long. I let out a pained shriek collapsing on myself and transforming back to my original form.

‘Shit. Is Alastor ok? What the hell happened?’ I thought starting to get delirious with the pain.

“MILEDY NO!”

“SUCK MY HOLY LIGHT, FUCKERS! YEAH!” Adam yells over our heads making me glare at him.

“What? Alastor was supposed to handle him. Oh no, he must be—”

White noise fills my ears as my vision starts to fail me leaving me in an unconscious state, where the last thing I see was tendrils wrapping around me.

---later

“Dad!”

“Alastor!!”

Everyone hugs him seeing his return that he was safe, however they fail to spot Miledy with him.

“Dad… Where’s mom?” Abby asks worried, trying to calm herself before she goes crazy looking for her mom.

“She’s fine. Just resting,” he assures giving his daughter a smile. ‘She has to be,’ he thought furrowing his brows before following the others.

<<flashback>>

“Al!” I scream getting away from an exorcist that was after me. She pushes me down and attempts to stab my chest. As soon as the steel met my skin, a tendril pushes her off me. I screamed as I see a large cut, opening up my chest. I watch mortified as I see my own beating heart.

“Miledy!”

Alastor rushes to me and knelt beside me. I hold onto him tightly confused and afraid, “Al, where are we? I don’t know what’s going on. I’m scared!”

His breathing stutters and tries to answer her, his eyes knit together and wore a frown. “It’s okay, you’re okay. I need to save you. You have to make a deal with me, Mel.”

I nodded my head despite not knowing anything he was saying. I just wanted to get out of here and be with him. Explain things to me carefully without my life being endangered and on the run.

“Mel, you will have to give your heart to me. So that no one will find your weakness, this is to keep you alive. Do we have a deal?” Alastor says to me seriously a faint green light emanating from him and his outstretched hand.

I nodded vehemently and shook his hand, “Deal.”

TAGLIST:

@marxo5, @whaatttlaufey, @froggybich

[rayrox360]

THE GOLDEN ROACH

The world will praise your differences. As long as those differences make you stronger. Izuku has always been different. And it has always led to hatred and spit and turmoil. Because being quirkless means you are weak. It means you are wrong and flawed and destined to die out. A roach refusing to go extinct, living in the cracks, in the dark, polluting the world with a putrid dust. 

Izuku is the 10%. The few with no place. No power. No voice. And he is determined to change that. Not just for him, but for everyone. Roaches and all. 

Meanwhile, Eraserhead might have bitten off a bit more than he could chew, going after this new vigilante who, for some reason, is completely immune to his quirk, smarter than the Devil, and always wants to talk about his Pro Hero trading card collection. 

But then again… maybe his class could use one more chair?

Maybe the roaches have something to say.

Hello all my lovelies!

I'm so excited to be announcing the start of my new fanfiction: a My Hero Academia webnovel called The Golden Roach!

This story centers around an AU where Izuku Midoriya is never given One For All and instead must learn to become a hero without any powers while also combatting the growing social unrest that hisses at the very idea of a quirkless hero. After all, not all problems in hero society can be solved with a flashy costume and a winning punch.

Sometimes it takes more than that.

Sometimes it takes a team.

A team that includes everybody. Bugs and all.

This story will focus on some heavy themes like discrimination, prejudice, civil unrest, social violence, and more. As well as the strength of heart it takes to overcome these challenges.

I can't wait to share this new journey with you all, and I'll be including tons of new fan-interaction! This includes an Ask-TheGoldenRoach blog where you can ask questions and have all your favorite characters answer them in short little comics as well as a Patreon including exclusive content like bonus chapters and fanart.

Everything opens up at the end of the month, including the Ask-blog, Patreon, and the story itself, debuting on fanfiction.net, AO3 and my own website (links will be available on debut day.)

God willing, chapters will be updated monthly and fanart/blog posts will be interspersed between.

If you have any questions, please feel free to message me! I can't wait to start this new adventure with you guys!

The Golden Roach - DEBUTS SEPTEBMER 28TH!

[mini-jiminie]

moments where I cannot stand these two

hi, I recently remembered that my Tumblr account has been collecting dust on the internet for the past 4-5 years🤩 I've spent the better part of the last month scrolling through this app and all the jkk blogs like a sugar-crazed toddler. Coming back to tumblr has been an absolute blessing considering how much of a shit show twitter is.

Anyways, I spend a grand portion of my time reading the amazing and intellectual thoughts of jkk blogs on here and decided hey, I'll make my own post about these two.

I've been knees-deep in this bts shit for the past 7 years. Since then, I've witnessed some crazy stuff from those two so, I've decided to compile some moments that:

a) make my toes curl from how much I'm cringing

b) make me so clearly feel the fourth wall,

c) have me looking over at the other bts boys in panic because, how are ya'll just standing there accepting the homoerotic mating ritual before you??

We're starting with a bang girlies. The way I have a visceral reaction to this video every time it comes up on my tl. I couldn't even look at my screen when I was saving it and, it's infinitely worse with the audio too. What are we interrupting exactly??? Toes curling to the highest degree, I'm biting my nails off, akakdncdb.

#someone please save my man joon

This is my genuine reaction to this clip:

2. Do I even need to explain this? It's been years but they still can never get through a round of this palm-pushing game.

Jimin baby, I need you to get up. Every time, I root so hard for him to win at least one run bts game and then, he goes and does shit like this. I'm tired.

Hobi and Tae were fully prepared as backup in case the game got too rowdy, just for those two to be like 😆🥰���😙

3. Again, I CANT STAND THESE TWO. The coy smiles, eye contact, holding onto the blazer???? There's also a fancam of this focusing on just their legs and,,,,,,girl.

If the mics weren't there, they would've made out– GUNSHOTS.

There are plenty more instances that I'm not remembering but, these ones are the ones that have me crying, hacking and throwing up.

[kimigia]

my problem with owari no seraph's writing, from someone who's been reading it since 2016

finally decided to revive this blog after it sat untouched for years and collected copius amounts of dust.... just ignore my old posts LMAO

anyways, i have a small list of issues that i think i've already posted about before? but i wanted to compile them all, and add on anything i haven't mentioned before.

*small spoiler warning for recent chapters & light novel*

the countless neglected side plots and characters. i understand that every side story will eventually get its time to shine... but when? i don't think i'd have such a problem with it if the comic updated more often, but i understand that kagami has other scripts to write and it takes yamamoto time to draw the beautiful art. but it's been years since we last saw characters like lacus welt, rene simm, seishiro hiragi, chess belle, makoto narumi and horn skuld. i definintely think it's a huge shame that after being present for like, 50 or so chapters, they just... disappeared. hell, last time yoichi's plan to get revenge on lacus was mentioned was over 5 years ago. again, if the updates were faster i wouldn't have such a problem with it taking so many chapters to finally get to the side storylines. but i just feel like it's been way too long at this point... this has already been stated before, but the lack of mistuba, kimizuki, yoichi, and sometimes shinoa's respective stories being addressed is also really annoying. it feels like they've been completely forgotten and neglected and like the comic is just 'mika & yu + extras''. i want to see yoichi get his revenge on lacus, i want to see ferid's backstory, i want to see mitsuba's relationship with her sister branched out more, i want to see chess and horn and how they're relevant to crowley's story, i want to see where narumi ran off to, i want to see kimizuki's storyline with his sister, and i know these will be addressed eventually, but like... when? to add onto this, i feel like new storylines keep being added on without old ones being addressed. the whole thing with mika turning into a demon, turning into a sword, finding out the first's past, and all of that. but then again, it took us years to finally figure out the first's past, so i trust that these side plots will also eventually get addressed! it's just very messy, and all over the place.

2. the same lines being repeated over and over again. i swear to god every couple of chapters they go through the same dialogue of "we're going to revive everyone and save all of our family members and save the whole world" and i just feel like nothing really happens after that? just from chapters 100-130 it's been mentioned SO many times and i just. if i'm missing something i'd appreciate it if someone could just tell me at this point because i really don't see why the almost exact same dialogue has to be said so often. i am perfectly aware that the whole storyline revives around the importance of companionship, friendship, and love, but it just seems futile for the same exact thing to be stated so often. i think when it's SHOWN rather than just being told is really nice, like how krul and ashera's backstory was played out, or how the love between paimon and bael was shown. we can draw our own conclusions and interpret the story differently based on what we see rather than being spoonfed the same information over and over again. ashera basically cursed his sister because he couldn't fathom living without her, and bael ended his life because he couldn't fathom living without paimon. i think when the love and importance of the character's relationships with each other is shown like this, rather than the same dialogue being restated chapter after chapter, the story flows much smoother.

3. the lack of character development. again, if i've somehow missed it then please just tell me because i can't find it anywhere. specifically in yu's case, because it's been YEARS. i will say, in the early volumes of the manga i definitely saw him undergo a huge change, because before he got put in the demon army he had a very sour attitude and refused to make friends. but after he found his new family, he did a complete 180 and made it his life's mission to live for them and do anything to save them, mika included (later on) but again, that was years ago and since then i've honestly been unable to see much change in his behavior. despite the numerous times guren has shown himself to be a shifty, shady person that's hard to trust, it doesn't go through yu's head. even after they had that huge fight around chapter 112, his anger towards guren wasn't even about the fact that guren planned for his family to be murdered by ferid! he rarely listens to mika, and he generally just goes off and does whatever he likes. i UNDERSTAND that this is just part of his character and personality, but my god is it frustrating to watch... i will say though, him bowing to krul and requesting her help to save mika was a nice surprise that i didn't anticipate. i'd really like to see more of that! more of him listening to other characters who desperately try to help him, etc.

4. the way female characters are written and treated. i understand that this is a shounen manga, but the only female characters in the series being used for fan service gets on my nerves a LOT, especially since they're not really that well written in the first place. also the dialogue and interactions between them... i really really hate that majority of the conversations between just shinoa and mitsuba are played off as boob jokes or something when they could be having legitimate bonding moments and building their friendships. like i'm not gonna lie, shinoa is an absolutely FASCINATING character to me. but i want to see the girls interact with other girls outside of topics that have to do with a man or just making boob jokes!!! (i've only read volume 1 of the catastrophe manga,) but going off of that, the way there could've been so much more attention paid to sayuri's character for example but a lot of the spotlight on her just consisted of either a. her boobs being shown or b. somebody talking about her boobs. i'm not gonna lie, one of the first pages of the manga being a naked 14 year old girl was ....?? anyways. and how could i forget about chess and horn! they're vampires that're hundreds to thousands of years old, and they can't even fall in love or feel romantic desire, but the whole blushing thing while getting down on their knees to suck crowley's blood from his finger? chess getting jealous of horn for being able to suck his blood? hello? like... come on. i will say though, i really like how krul's character is written. in my opinion, she's an example of a well written female character.

an additional note that's not criticism: my opinions on the new art style are kinda 50/50... i feel like for the adult/older characters, the tiny eyes and sharper/more realistic features can make them look kinda weird sometimes, especially their front profiles. but for the younger/child/teen characters, i actually really like it and i feel like it suits them! not having their eyes take up half of their faces anymore looks good, and it can also be interpreted as physical growth.

anyways, there are so so so many things that i legitimately love about owari no seraph, so this isn't me just shitting on the entire series. i'm gonna follow it through to the end, and i'm excited to see how that goes! i just think the writing could use.... some work.

*please excuse any typos*

[m-to-z-andbackto-m]

(TLDR at the bottom)

(I FORGOT TO POST THIS AND IT'S JUST BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS COLLECTING DUST 😭)

More DreamTale ramble because it's their birthday and I still don't have their gift finished 😭

DreamTale By Joku 🫶

DREAMTALE is about BALANCE correct?

>:)

>:/

>:(

Okay, yeah I'm not too excited about this one but here we go (That's a lie, I'm hella invested):

Original:

Nightmare - Died once, is a pelvis hole, pretty sure he unalived one of Killer's cats or at least attacked it, being of hate, literally no one should be happy around him (He might KILL YOUR CAT if you are smh)

Dream - Was turned to stone once, definition of a cinnamon roll, authentic Disney princess (Reference), way too kind and hopeful for his own good, literally no one should be upset around him

Okay we got this? Nightmare? Super Uncool. Dream? Super Wholesome.

Right okay so DreamTale having this Balance shtick, I think it makes Sans (Ba Dum Tsss) that in versions where Nightmare is actually likable (DadMare), Dream is... Less likable...

Like canonically that's a load of bull shart and super unlikely to be the case, like, ever

But making one likable (In this case, Nightmare), more often than not, renders the other unlikable (Dream), I've seen it, over and over (Examples):

Rehabilitation Multiverse (I 🫶 Them) (Guys go read Little Assistant on Quotev, I beg, it's so cute, they have a blog on here too <3)

BJTBS and more of Dark's content

That one multiverse where Dream is essentially the embodiment of toxic positivity (Crazed? Dream?) and Nightmare has gotta go around fixing up mishaps (Really liked this idea, it takes the whole thing I'm talking about and multiplies it by 20)

I think Shattered Dreams should count too?

Okay actually those are the only ones I've personally looked into myself (I think DreamSwap by Kai might count too but I haven't looked into DS since... 3... years ago... yeah-) but I've seen it mentioned over and over, whether someone's ranting about a fanfic they read or doodles people make

Due to these observations, I conclude:

Common DreamTale Occurrence: To have a likable Nightmare, you need a less-than-ideal Dream. To keep your pure Dream, you gotta have a hateful Nightmare.

Exceptions:

Both Are Unlikable (Rare?)

Both are likable (but don't see eye socket to eye socket if you wanna keep that conflict, or they vibe together neutrally if you don't care for the conflict)

Redemption Variations

Most Truce Multiverses

Petty/Joke/Non Or Semi Serious Versions

Etc...

Examples of each exception except the first one because I haven't seen that yet:

Both Likable: Nightmare may be DadMare, neutral, hold his own morals that from his perspective are understandable, or secretly still cares for Dream. Dream may be angsty, close to canon, naive, or also hold his side of morals that are still valid I've also seen one where he's been manipulated by the village so any toxic (behavior isn't/beliefs aren't) his fault. (I think it was called RoseVerse, found it on YT, really cool stuff!)

Redemption Variations: This mainly revolves around Nightmare redeeming himself, or the group as a whole, possible P!Nightmare.

Truce Multiverses: Self explanatory, The Stars (Or in this case, mostly Dream) and Nightmare's Group (Again, in this case, mostly Nightmare) agree on a truce

Semi To Non Serious Multiverses: Joke comics can follow the observation but also not since they're not canon anyways, like Roxy's overprotective Nightmare (StareMare!) drawings, or The Worst Smile comic (I think... That was the name...)

Summary: DreamTale's Balance shtick and the pattern of having one Apple Brother likable rendering the other unlikable is so common, I propose it as sort of a common occurring rule(?) that has some exceptions because this fandom is limitless regardless of it's patterns

[bonetrousledbones]

question can you infodump about your Little Guys (atbb) to me because ive been following for like a year and i still dont totally understand them past papyrus au. they are really cool tho

oh my god ok so. first off atbb is the acronym for my ask blog @ask-the-bone-boys that's been on hiatus for a little over a year now. it was born in 2018 out of the annoyance of everything au-centered being sans and also a way to explore how the classic "aus get stuck in the original universe" fic trope would go if it was somebody from the "original" story leaving their universe instead. and also an excuse to make papyrus miserable to be fully honest

also also im going to preface this by saying i ship selfcest and there is some selfcest in this story ok if anybody has issue with that then uh. oopsies (i can explain the way i view it at another time if anybody;s interested but im already gonna ramble like hell here so not rn)

with that groundwork laid im gonna put this under a cut lmao dont click this

for the sake of organization- part 1: RUSS

STARTING AT THE BEGINNING so some very basic backstory for this Undertale Papyrus specifically is that he and his brother are twins, they grew up bouncing around several foster homes until they decided to run away to live in the woods on their 14th birthday, where they lived in a bigass tent for three years until Papyrus got badly injured and they had to get help from the townspeople, who uh kinda unofficially adopted them and thats how "they just showed up one day"

then more time passed and around 3 years after getting to the surface Papyrus was booted out of his universe by Mysterious Circumstances. he got a very bad introduction to the multiverse because the place he landed was my own version of horrortale, undermunch. there he meets Spooks!

i have a whole side-fic where you can read in better detail how this goes but basically monsters don't turn to dust in this world and also Spooks is a cannibal, which Papyrus doesn't know until he realizes he was fed spaghetti made out of a rabbit monster. IN addition to that, Spooks has very different magic from other aus, that being it's pretty much all concentrated into a kind of blue-magic-venom that comes out of his teeth like a snake.

Long story short Papyrus has to escape from Spooks somehow, and that's how he learns he's able to move through universes by himself. It still takes him a while to learn how to without being in a life-or-death situation, but that's ok because almost every other universe he goes to after that puts him into a life-or-death situation :>

and then FINALLY he gets spat out into a variation of Underswap, where he meets Honey. this one's a bit spoilery because i haven't finished writing this fic yet BUT its ok because this will be so so so disorganized. anyway so Papyrus is scared of Honey at first because he's been getting completely fucking obliterated by the multiverse (his leg is broken and he's wearing a chest plate he stole from a different papyrus who died in front of him) but Honey is relatively patient with him and lets him stay on his couch on the surface. This is where Papyrus gets the nickname Russ!

Russ is dealing with a broken leg when he shows up in this universe, so he stays with Honey for a little over three months while he recovers from that as well as (some of) the multiverse traumas he'd been collecting up to that point. The main things that he still can't shake are nightmares, trust/attachment issues, and EXTREME food paranoia. he refuses to eat anything he hasn't prepared himself, and even that can be a struggle. Also, because of how long he spent without getting it properly treated, his leg never fully heals.

He starts getting really really homesick the longer he stays in this universe. It builds up over his whole stay, but only starts to get Very Bad after he gets the cast off of his leg. Honey's home is extremely similar to his own home, and sometimes just seeing him and his brother interacting with each other makes Russ upset.

OH I FORGOT TO TALK ABOUT THE CODEPENDENCY ok so at some point Russ just starts completely clinging to Honey and Honey doesn't know what to do about it so he just kinda. unintentionally feeds into it and this turns into Russ sleeping in Honey's bed and blah blah blah eventually this becomes a problem for Honey because he doesn't know how to address Russ's homesickness and clinginess without hurting him somehow even though Honey is extremely stressed and actively burning out

Then Russ overhears Honey venting to Undyne and feels. crushed. And he reacts incredibly rationally! By avoiding Honey as much as possible! But it does not take him long at all to break down and the two finally have a chat about boundaries. They work out a plan together that Honey thinks will genuinely help and Russ thinks will get himself off of Honey's back. The plan is that they'll figure out how to control Russ's world-hopping ability and get him back home.

The idea is that if he's able to control when and how he leaves, he can control where he goes. Then, when he inevitably lands in his home, he'll pop back in Underswap and tell Honey how it went. Because he can control it! Of course!

Honey gives him one of his hoodies and a photo camera to remember him by. Russ tries to figure out what it was in the past that might have helped him jump universes, which was the desire to be just about anywhere other than where he was at that moment. So, he just, thought about going home instead!

And it worked! And he left Honey's universe! And then he realized he didn't land at his home at all! And when he tried to go back to Honey's universe, he went somewhere entirely different as well! And he never saw Honey again! Wahoo!

This is the point where he just becomes a complete mess I'm not gonna lie to you, he starts drinking even though he really really REALLY hates alcohol, he only eats enough to stay conscious, he gets into fights just for the adrenaline rush, and only stays in one universe long enough to confirm it's not his home before either leaving for the next one or collapsing somewhere and hoping he doesn't get attacked while he sleeps for two hours

then he lands in Edge's universe and this needs a part two now OOPS

[pengychan]

[Baldur’s Gate III] Hell to Pay, Ch. 27

Illustration by @raphaels-little-beast

Title: Hell to Pay Summary: Assassinating an archdevil is a daunting task, even for the heroes of Baldur’s Gate. Some inside help from ‘the devil they know’ would be good, if not for the detail their last meeting ended with said devil dead in his own home. Or did it? Characters: Raphael, the Dark Urge, Astarion, Haarlep, Halsin, Karlach, Wyll. Rating: E Status: In progress

All chapters will be tagged as ‘hell to pay’ on my blog. Also on Ao3.

*** Don't you hate it when talk about Feelings has to wait because you've got an archdevil to take down. ***

In the many centuries that followed the Fall of Netheril, the Blood War raged on as it had for time immemorial. In that time as Steward of Avernus, Raphael witnessed all manners of events across the Hells and many other Planes. 

Most were mundane, some unusual, some extraordinary; very few, however, compared to witnessing a mortal coming within a hair’s breadth of godhood, the blinking out of existence of all magic, the destruction of an empire in a matter of moments - all made possible by an artifact of immense power and potential, now collecting dust in the Eighth layer of the Hells.

All in all, until a couple of decades into his seventeenth century of life, Raphael could quite safely say he had yet to witness anything that came close to that. Until he witnessed a blindfolded Solar with a glowing sword in hand, charging into Avernus atop a golden mastodon, leading a mounted charge of thousands of Hellriders against demonic hordes. 

That, he had to admit, did fit the definition of an extraordinary event… and it was as much a folly as Karsus’ bid for godhood had been. There was a reason why Celestials had long stopped waging war against the demons of the Abyss: those of them who were sent to do so had been changed beyond recognition, taking on characteristics of their enemies to better vanquish them.

In the end they became something altogether different, ever caught in-between demon and celestial: the first devils. Sworn enemies of demons and yet reviled by what had once been their own kin and by the gods - the very some who had sent them forth to be their scourge and their shield, the only bastion against the hordes of the Abyss. 

So many eons had passed that history had turned to legend, and a little known one at that. But it was the truth. Raphael would know; Lord Mephistopheles had been one of those first devils, after all. He had never willingly spoken of that distant past to him or anyone as far as he was aware, but Raphael had made it his mission - one of several - to learn all he could about his sire, so he could spot any gaps in his armor.

While he did learn much, he had not found any such gaps. None large enough to let a figurative dagger slip past, at least. But Raphael had also learned to be patient, and he had time in abundance.

“Apparently, they intend to chase the demons into the Abyss, and slaughter them all,” Lord Bel had muttered, unaware of his thoughts. He had been watching the charge through a telescope atop the Bronze Citadel. On top of the outer rings of its defensive walls, much of the garrison was watching the events unfold too. “What does my steward make of it?”

“I think it’s the epitome of idiocy,” Raphael had replied, gaining himself a chuckle. 

“And my steward is correct.”

“I have been known to be.”

“Don’t get complacent, boy,” Lord Bel had replied, as though Raphael wasn’t quite past the age to be considered one even by hellish standards. He’d lowered the telescope before speaking again. “It is idiocy. She will fail. Her mortal friends will die and she’s likely to suffer a worse fate yet. But as long as she’s fighting demons, she can be a useful idiot.”

“A strategic alliance?”

“If she’s so inclined, which I doubt. Celestials are usually too righteous to do the clever thing. More likely than not, she will refuse the alliance and make some lofty oath to take up her sword against us should we intervene - with the unspoken implication she will do so either way once all demons are dead by her holy hand, of course.”

Raphael scoffed. Demons were close enough to infinite in numbers, and anyone with half a brain knew that defeating them for good was impossible. They could be held back, never destroyed; they were as eternal as the chaos they had spawned from. 

“Does she truly believe her quaint cavalry can succeed where all of our forces could not?” 

“Don’t underestimate a celestial’s arrogance. Still, the remote possibility exists that this one may see reason.” Bel pulled away from the telescope, and turned back to look at him. “It would be foolish of me not to make an attempt. As soon as this battle is done and they make camp, you shall go as my envoy. Do try to return in one piece.”

He did go, and the meeting was short as it was unpleasant, with the solar doing most of the talking. As Bel had predicted there was the refusal of any cooperation, the promise to destroy their forces should they approach, the silent threat that they would be next once the demonic hordes were crushed. He’d returned to Bel in one piece, at least, and the Lord of the First had laughed when he heard his report. 

“She thinks she can destroy demons and then us in one fell swoop? Well then, let her try. Let us see how many demons they can slaughter for us before they’re felled.”

It was many; hundreds, thousands, perhaps tens of thousands and more. Zariel fought furiously, if recklessly, and she fought well. So did her host, which lasted longer than Raphael had thought it possibly could - but they were mortals, and they fell far more easily than a celestial would; more easily than a fiend, too. More and more fell, their numbers dwindled, and the demons kept coming - wave after wave, horde after horde, shattering spears and shields, disemboweling horses and riders alike. Battles turned to indiscriminate butchery and no legion of devils intervened one way or the other. Their offer for help had, after all, been quite rudely rebuffed and Zariel, sworn sword of the Morninglord Lathander and herald of dawn. 

She had made plain that she was their enemy, and few things are quite as convenient as two enemies making one another bleed. So the troops of Avernus retreated, took advantage of the rare lull to reorganize their numbers, repair weapons, and prepare for the fighting that was inevitably going to resume once the Ride failed. 

Because it did fail. When a group of terrified Hellriders finally broke away over the course of a particularly bloody battle, Raphael knew it would seal their fate. They fled back to the portal they’d opened up from the Material Plane, went through it… and such was their terror the demons may follow, they closed it behind them, leaving the rest trapped.

Of those who remained some broke, turned on one another, tried to seek escape where no escape existed. They died, almost every one of them, until a small gang was left, closing ranks alongside a wounded mastodon and a solar who still held her head high, still attempting a last stand. It was brave, and it was futile. Raphael was there to see Netheril fall; he bore witness to the fall of Zariel, too. 

But unlike Karsus, Zariel did not stay down for long. She was alive when a delegation of bone devils sent by Asmodeus himself came to retrieve her from beneath the pile of corpses, to take her all the way to Nessus. They came quickly, a little too quickly for Raphael not to suspect the Lord Below had been expecting precisely that outcome before making a move.

Raphael assumed she would be tortured, or made into a trophy; he was dreadfully correct, but not in the way he’d thought he would be. When Asmodeus announced Zariel - now an archdevil, corrupted by the Hells down to her bones - was to be the new ruler of Avernus, leading their forces against the demons of the Abyss, saying it was an unexpected development would have been a severe understatement. It surprised and angered many, but none dared voice that anger - especially not Bel, who publicly accepted the decision without protest even as he schemed, from the beginning, to regain his lost throne. 

Losing the position of Steward of Avernus did not bother Raphael nearly as much. All things considered, it was perhaps a blessing in disguise - too many centuries in one position can make anyone complacent, dull the edge of ambition. But he’d prepared for that chance: over the centuries he’d set aside enough souls to his name, enough warlocks and connections. 

He could not retain the title of duke, but he was allowed to remain in Avernus, in a dwelling he may create for himself, as long as he paid a quota of souls each year. Simple enough, truly.

As Zariel rose to power Raphael, servant of none at last, was ready to strive out on his own.

***

The first time Karlach had seen Zariel, there was a moment when she’d almost been relieved.

Surely, none of that was truly happening. She had not been grabbed and thrown through a portal to the Hells; she had not heard Gortash say she would make the perfect specimen for a prototype, whatever that meant. She had not been dragged inside a flying fortress of iron and basalt high above Avernus, sulfur threatening to choke her at every breath. 

None of it was truly happening, she’d reasoned, because she was having a nightmare. She had to be dreaming. The creature standing before her with a burning halo over her head, ashen skin and burning eyes, could only be a figment of her imagination. She had a few precious moments to take solace in that.

Then the pain started - her chest sliced open and ribs spread apart with an iron instrument, something torn out and then replaced by what felt like molten lead - and she knew that if this was a nightmare, it was one she would never again wake from. Until she did wake up ten years later, under the sun amidst the remains of a nautiloid, swearing to herself that she was never, ever going to set foot in Avernus. 

Things hadn’t precisely gone according to plan, because she actually set both feet back in Avernus in the end, just so that she wouldn’t… well, die. But she would have never gone back alone, of that she was certain. She would have never been able to survive half a year there, never been able to find out that there was a chance to replace her engine with one that could function outside the Hells. In choosing to come with her, Wyll had saved her life.

And he still thought I’d let him get himself grab the sword and get fucked over again for my sake. As if. As fucking if. 

She could hear the sword in question humming faintly at Halsin’s back. Actually, the hum kept growing less and less faint the higher up they went. Reacting to Zariel, Lulu had whispered when Karlach asked about it.

“We’re close, I can tell - I feel her, too!” 

“Shouldn’t she be able to feel you and the sword approaching, too?” Wyll asked, causing Lulu to frown. At least, it looked like a frown. Discerning the expressions of a hollyphant really wasn’t easy. 

“... Yes, she should feel my presence too, shouldn’t she? And she hasn’t come to meet us.”

“What were you expecting, miserable little thing? A hug?” Mizora muttered, but she looked thoughtful as they made their way further up, among turrets at the slit windows and other infernal machinery. One good thing about the earlier fight was that they met no one the rest of the way; clearly, whoever was supposed to occupy the few highest floors had responded to Flo’s call to come and fight them. 

Still holding the chain they had attached to Lulu for show, Halsin had frowned. “She has not called upon any forces to stop us, either.”

Mizora hummed. “She may very well wish to keep that pleasure for herself.”

“No, she wouldn’t hurt me. And you know that. You had to kill me because she wouldn’t, even if she kept coming to see me every day,” Lulu had replied, and it seemed Mizora had nothing to retort to that. She only scoffed, and Lulu spoke again. “She will listen to me. I know it.”

“... I am sure you still mean a great deal to her,” Wyll said, not unkindly. “But in the event she does not take up the sword--”

“You’re not picking it up. If we have to fight her, we do it without that thing. No one’s getting changed beyond recognition on my watch,” Karlach cut him off the same moment Lulu huffed, shaking her head.

“There will be no such event. I know her, I’ve known her forever. And it’s only been… less than a century and a half since the Ride. That’s not long!”

Wyll chuckled. “It sounds like a long time to me, but I am certain Halsin would say otherwise,” he said, and Halsin smiled. 

“That’s a very kind way to call me old.”

“Oh, come now. You’re barely a middle aged elf.”

Lulu fluttered closer to Karlach, who was still frowning. “I know you don’t understand - I know she hurt you - but please-- she is still there. She must be.”

It’s all the hope she has to cling to. If she’s beyond saving, what will Lulu even do with herself?

It was a sad thought, and Karlach forced herself to chase it away. No, she couldn’t think that way. She had to hope that the hollyphant was right; that enough of the old Zariel was still there within the monster. Honestly, that was one fight she’d happily do without. In the end, she sighed. 

“If the Zariel you knew is still there, we’ll do our best to bring her back out.”

“Yes! And she’ll apologize!”

Low bar to step over, that, but well. They were in the Hells, and it would still be one step up Gortash. I’m sorry you felt wronged, the bitch had said. The absolute bitch, pun fully intended.

“She had better,” Karlach said, making an effort to smile. Up and up they went, until they finally were at the very top of the Fortress, before the metal trapdoor leading to the roof. From there, Zariel would survey their surroundings while the Fortress’ engines got their soul refill from the Styx. 

She’s right there, right beyond this door. And there is no way in all the Hells that she does not know Lulu and her sword are here.

Karlach swallowed, stared at the door a moment, and turned to Wyll. “Just in case something goes wrong, I just… I wanted to… er…” she cleared her throat. “I mean--”

He smiled, and reached up to cup her cheek. “This is not the day we die,” he promised, and brushed a thumb over her cheekbone before he stood on his toes to kiss her. Karlach kissed him back - oh it was so, so nice - and almost wanted to cry when he pulled back. Almost, because he was smiling again and he had that look on his face, the one he got when he made a promise he’d do anything to keep. “This kiss wasn’t our last.”

A sigh. “Delightful, truly. I believe you just rotted half of my teeth,” Mizora muttered, and vanished the chains on Karlach and Lulu with a single gesture. “Well then. I believe I shall let you go forth.”

Halsin glanced over. “Are you not coming?”

She did not reply right away. First, she looked at the closed trapdoor with an expression Karlach couldn’t quite place, but which seemed infinitely bitter. “If you do succeed in redeeming her, I don’t relish the thought of finding myself face to face with her.”

“And if it comes to a fight?” Wyll asked. Mizora sighed, the way a parent does when faced with a particularly slow child asking a particularly dumb question.

“In that case, I’d have all the more reason to make myself scarce.”

“It won’t come to that,” Lulu declared, and bodily slammed into the door before any of them could add a single word, throwing it open and flying outside. “Zarie--”

There was a burst of flames, and she barely managed to duck beneath it. Lulu let out a yelp, wings beating furiously after dodging the attack. “Hey! That wasn’t nice! It’s me!”

That wasn’t nice, she said. Oh gods, they were so screwed. With a groan, Karlach climbed out, a hand ready to fly to her greataxe, which had been silvered for the occasion. She heard, faintly, the sword's humming growing stronger as Halsin followed her and Wyll outside… to be met with no more attacks. The roof was empty but for one being.

At the apex of her fortress, cutting a fearsome figure against the red sky of Avernus and with her only remaining hand still lifted, Zariel stood alone, looking at them all with flaming eyes.

***

Raphael’s face was still wet when the notes of the Song of Rest rang out. 

It was a small respite, far less than the long rest he clearly needed - and Haarlep, truth be told; Durge wouldn’t have said no either - but it was all they could afford now. They sighed at the relief the spell did provide, and tilted their head towards Raphael. They had to rein in a frankly ridiculous impulse to reach out and wipe his face dry, brush back his hair. 

Later, perhaps. We have precious little time. The others may yet need us.

“Thank you,” they said instead. There was much more they wished to say, but that too would have to wait. “I am sorry the circumstances don’t allow for the kind of rest you need.”

“I’ll rest when I’m dead.” Raphael’s voice came out hoarse, and he cleared his throat before speaking again. “Which will be very soon, I suspect,” he added, in the same tone one may use to make observations about possible rainfall later in the evening. Durge had to admit he was doing an admirable job at pretending he had not been sobbing his heart out against their chest until minutes earlier, in a breakdown that had been… nearly a couple of millennia in the making, from what they’d gathered. 

“Oh, thank you kindly. We really needed a little bit of doom and gloom, to balance out the insufferable cheery surroundings,” Astarion huffed, gesturing to the wasteland all around and the towering fortress above them. All seemed business as usual; the others may not have gotten to Zariel yet, which meant they may very well be still on time to help. 

A couple of steps away, having taken on the glamor of a bone devil, Haarlep sighed. “It would be inconvenient,” they lamented, in the raspy voice that left the skeletal jaw. “And after we took such pains to keep you alive.”

Raphael scoffed, putting the lyre on his back. “Regardless of convenience, that is the most likely outcome if we attempt to walk through the fortress’ front door.”

“Oh, not if I walk you in as prisoners while wearing this form.” Haarlep bared the bone devil’s fangs, causing Raphael to pause and turn slowly to look at the glamor. “See, I had a plan and everything, before I spotted you fighting for your life and had to make a detour. I figured that if I took the form of one of the fortress’ guards, no one would question me going in.”

“And when did you get--”

“About an hour ago. Poor thing was so pent-up, he couldn’t resist. Gave up his body soooo readily, it was almost a shame to push him in the Styx.” A sigh. “Ah, well. Couldn’t let him show up while I was using his form, could I now? It may have been a little embarrassing, one of us would have had to change. Or he’d have killed me on sight. Anyway, I never went into the Fortress, clearly. I checked on Raphael’s sending stone, and saw it was suddenly outside, so I rushed to the spot and not a moment too soon.”

Raphael stared for several moments, looking all the world like he had a million questions he’d rather pull out teeth than ask. In the end, he only asked one. “Dare I ask what you were planning to do once inside? Fight Zariel?”

“I mean, I’d rather not. But I could have cheered from the sidelines, or snatched you if things went wrong and tried to make a run for it. Or I could have distracted her. I’m good at that.”

“I doubt she'd be particularly vulnerable to your idea of distraction.”

“I mean, with the crossbow.”

“I doubt she’d be particularly vulnerable to your crossbow, either.”

“Well, that’s why it was Plan C. But surely, right now what matters is getting in the fortress, and then we can… well, we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it, no?”

“Cross it. You cross a bridge when you get to it,” Astarion corrected them. “But that slip aside, I say we go for it. It’s the kind of plan I could have come up with myself, really.”

“It’s hardly even a plan,” Raphael pointed out, gaining himself a toothsome grin. 

“Precisely,” he said, and that was that.

***

“So, you have come to cut me down. It took you more time than I was expecting. You’ve longed to do it for a very long time. I can always tell when someone thirsts for blood.”

Zariel’s voice was raspy as Karlach remembered it, as though fire had scorched her throat once and the burns never healed. She sounded calm, but that could change at the drop of a hat; Karlach had seen it happen more times than she could count, a quiet façade burning away like flash paper to leave behind seething fury, bottomless hatred, a thirst for blood and war nothing ever seemed to quench.

And if that happened there would be no turning back, no getting her to calm and listen. So she ground her teeth and forced herself not to say that yes, actually, she’d dreamed of sticking a blade where the sun didn’t shine more times than she could count and part of her still really fucking wanted to go ahead and try to do just that. She might have, if she’d been alone. But she was not - Wyll was there, and Halsin too. They had risked too much already, for her sake. 

As though the bitch had just read her thoughts, Zariel’s eyes shifted from her to Wyll. Her lips curled in a humorless smile. “The warlock who’s been aiding you. I see, now. I can sense Mizora’s mark all over you. It was her to betray me, then. She’ll pay the price for this, once I’m done with you.”

“We’re not here to cut you down! We’re here to help you!” Lulu called out, immediately fluttering between them and Zariel. It was almost painful to listen, all that hope in her voice. “We have brought--”

“Silence.” The flail secured to the wrist missing a hand was raised and brought down to the floor. It cracked the stone, but she made no move to attack. Not yet, at least - she’d just given a warning. It wasn’t like her to give warnings of any kind, but Karlach found she was not overly surprised. One thing was clear: Zariel, archdevil of Avernus, was unwilling to harm Lulu.

If not for her, she’d have attacked on sight, or called for a legion or two to back her up, or both. And now she wants her out of the way so she can do just that. 

“Whatever foolish notion you have of saving me, you are wrong.” She took a step forward, the blood red feathers of her wings glistening as they shifted. Karlach reached for her weapon and so did Wyll, and they took a step back - but Zariel ignored them entirely. Her gaze was fixed on Lulu, and on her only. “I let you leave once, you stubborn creature, and you keep returning time and time again, seeking what is no more. Can’t you see there is no use?”

“No! I’ll come back again if I have to! You kept coming back, too!” Lulu dared flutter closer, that desperate hope still in her voice. “When I was locked up in the dungeons, you came to see me almost every day. And you got so mad, but you kept coming. And you never struck me even if you screamed, even if this was all my fault.”

That struck a chord. Zariel paused mid-stride, and the look on his face turned to something much closer to confusion. “Your…?”

“I am sorry I couldn’t get to you on time-- the battle was so fierce, I couldn’t find you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you fell. Please, let me--”

A scathing laugh, the confusion burning away in the brightness of the flaming halo. Zariel lifted a hand in the air. A black warhammer, the very same one she’d ripped from the grasp of a demon lord, appeared in her grip in a faint cloud of mist. It was called Matalotok, but Karlach had heard it referred to as the Maul of Brutal Endings. Not very reassuring, that.

“I did not fall, Lulu. I rose, so that I may shoulder a burden none in Celestia was ever willing to take on. Asmodeus and his angels were right from the beginning. You cannot stave off the bottomless hunger of the demons of the Abyss with virtue .”

Karlach scoffed. “Oh, so we’re supposed to thank you now?” she spat, and Zariel’s flaming glare turned to her for only a moment before Lulu spoke again, high and desperate. 

“This isn’t about that anymore, Zariel! You know it! This isn’t you, this--”

“I told you, didn’t I?” Zariel cut her off, and bared her teeth in something that could have been a smile, or a snarl, or both. The halo of fire around her head seemed to burn hotter. “When demons die, they cry out my name in terror. This is who I am.”

“How many times have you told yourself that, so that you could believe it?” Halsin’s voice rang out before Lulu could retort, and it caused Zariel to stop in her tracks. Halsin had stepped forward, and in his hands was the Sword. Even in a scabbard, it hummed and shook as though alive. “I know what it is, to dedicate one’s life to a mission. I know what it is to lose oneself to the pursuit. But if you were indeed lost, you’d have struck already. Us, and her. ”

Zariel stared, and the corners of her mouth curled in a sneer of disdain… even as something in her gaze faltered, as the flames of her halo burned somewhat less brightly. Then the moment was over, and she bared her teeth again.

“Fools. I shall take that sword from your cold dead hands, the last remnants of my shame, and shatter it to pieces. You should have wielded it when you could. ”

There was no time to think of a response, much less to utter it. The next thing Karlach heard was a scream that seemed to shake the sky itself, Wyll’s shouted warning, Lulu’s own cry of dismay. Then Zariel charged in a wave of flames, warhammer and flail lifted.

End of diplomacy. Oh well. We tried, Karlach thought, and let out a cry of her own before she lifted her blade to meet the attack, the engine in her chest roaring with her.

***

“Hah! See, I told you it was going to--”

“Haarlep!”

“Hush!”

“Gods above, shut up !”

Now that was rather rude, Haarlep wanted to point out, but they did not, mostly because they might have a point. Dropping the ruse of marching prisoners inside the fortress as a bone devil - enforcers of Baator’s laws, and arguably the most feared devils by anybody below a pit fiend -  was probably not a good idea while still within sight of guards. So they bit their tongue, quickly regretting it because oh those teeth were sharp, and kept going.

There were a few glances their way, but the chains the dragonborn had pulled out from their bag of holding were pretty convincing, as well as a really interesting item to just carry around. That, and the general fear of bone devils kept anybody from coming to take too close a look, which was good news.

Haarlep’s glamors were good enough to fool other devils, certainly… but this was probably not the moment to test that assumption. So they shot a few glares around, waving the tail and stinger, and proceeded undisturbed deeper into the fortress. 

“Prisoners for Zariel,” they snapped once or twice, when someone dared ask, and that was it. They kept going - up and up and up, until the elevator ran its course and they were left with only a few more levels to go up on foot. They only stopped a few moments when they came across a room full of corpses; Haarlep could only assume that was where Raphael had been when the bearer of his ring had been found and he was forcibly ejected from the fortress.

“We’re close to the top,” Raphael spoke, nudging a corpse with his boot. “Surely, if Zariel is up there, the others would have reached her by now. And yet, nothing seems to have happ--”

A scream rang out suddenly, somewhere above and yet everywhere, shaking the walls, the floor, the ceiling. It caused them all to still, and exchange a glance. 

“Remind me to make a sarcastic remark about your timing after we’re done,” Astarion said, and Raphael only sighed before they rushed up the last flights of stairs, not wasting their time or breath on more words.

***

Karlach was honestly holding her own, fending off most blows and even working in a few good hits of her own, until a lash of the flail took out her right arm at the elbow. 

Not that she realized what had happened right away: at first there was only the sound of her weapon hitting the ground, along with a thud she didn’t quite place; then there was Wyll’s scream, and the realization that she was falling back. Then her back hit the ground, and there was pain. 

Laughter, too - Zariel’s laughter, above her own scream. “You should have known better,” she snarled, and lifted Matalotok above her head, ready to end her or at least come pretty damn close to it. She never got the chance, because suddenly Wyll was there in a burst of swirling mist, between her and Zariel, and pressed a hand against the archdevil’s before crying out. 

“Dolor!”

At such close range and without warning, the blasts did exactly what they had to do - throw Zariel back. She did not fall, a powerful beat of her wings saw to that, but she was pushed back enough that Wyll could turn and cry out. “Halsin! Help her!”

Ah, right. She was missing an arm and bleeding out, which was really not ideal.

“Wyll--” Karlach tried to call out, but he was off, head to head with the archdevil of Avernus. He had no hope of defeating her on his own, and he knew that. He wasn't trying to down her: he was trying to hold her back, away from her. 

No, no, no, no, no. Not him.

Karlach groaned and tried to sit up, despair overriding any and all pain. She felt for her weapon with the remaining hand, and just as she grasped the handle there was a touch on her back, helping her sit up. She heard Halsin speak, not far from her ear. 

“Don’t move. I think I can help,” he said, and Karlach groaned. 

“No, no. Wyll, he-- wait-- the sword…?”

“Lulu has it.”

Out of the corner of her mind Karlach could see her, hovering a short distance away. She was holding tightly onto the sword, trembling, and staring at the unfolding battle with wide eyes. The very picture of a broken heart; Karlach would have felt sorry, had she not been distracted by the sight of Halsin holding up her own severed arm. She had seen some nasty shit, but looking at it still made her puke a little in her own mouth. 

“The fuck…?”

“Hold still. I never tried this before,” Halsin replied, and held the arm to the bleeding stump, murmuring some incantation Karlach did not grasp. She sure as fuck saw the effects, though: under her stunned gaze the shards of bone in the stump shifted, set themselves straight again - and then there was tissue growing, stretching, knitting itself back together. Within moments her arm was hers again, with only a tingling sensation in the nerve endings that had already faded by the time she stood and picked her greataxe up. She laughed, incredulous. 

“Well, that was horrifying, but really damn useful. Could you always do it?”

“I learned recently. Traveling with you never fails to broaden my horizons,” he replied, and Karlach took a mental note of paying for his drinks at the next occasion before she turned back to the most pressing matter - Zariel. Wyll fought viciously and he fought well, but against an archdevil… well, he was going to need a little extra help. 

Good thing she was there with a big fuckoff axe, ready to provide that help. 

“Hey, handsome! Need a hand?”

“What-- how--?”

“Halsin’s got new tricks!”

Wyll had a deep cut on his forehead, turning his entire face in a bloody mask, and his right horn had broken clean in half, but he still smiled. “Oh, thank the gods.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, but it would have to wait. First, they had an archdevil to deal with. 

And they did just that, the two of them and Halsin, in a blur of magic and fire and blows. Karlach wasn’t sure how long it lasted, but soon enough she was locking blades and eyes with Zariel. The engine in her chest roared, and so did she. 

“Take a good look at me while you’ve still got eyes! You’re going to pay for what you did to me!”

Her fury was met with a sneer. “I made you stronger, and instrumental in a war upon which the safety of all Planes rests. You ought to be thanking me. I wouldn’t expect you to understand. You  never made a willing sacrifice.”

Were you in my place, would you risk it all to save others?

The memory of Zariel as she had been once, seeking to protect rather than destroy, caused Karlach to grind her teeth. “Didn’t have to, did I? You made that fucking choice from me! Took my heart! Made me a weapon! YOU HAD NO RIGHT!”

Zariel sneered, again. It was really starting to piss her off.

I could stem the tide of chaos and save many lives, the memory of her had said.

“I had every right to do what was needed. Would you rather have the demons of the abyss run amok across Planes?” the archdevil she was now snarled instead. “Would you rather--”

“Oh, fuck off!” Karlach pulled back, ducked under a vicious swing of the flail, and caught the falling hammer with her greataxe. The metal vibrated on impact, but it held up, courtesy of the improvements in Bel’s forge. “What of the innocents you were supposed to protect? What of them? The ones this bullshit was supposed to be all about!”

Yeenoghu slaughtered those I swore to protect.

The sneer of Zariel’s face froze, and for a moment she looked stunned, as though she had no idea how either of them had come to be there. Karlach sneered, and took advantage of the lapse to push back with all her might before ducking out of the way. 

Wyll’s blast caught Zariel in the chest, causing her to stagger back; she unfolded her wings and took flight, only to cry out in surprise and pain when Halsin’s lighting spell hit the mark, and she fell back to the ground, snarling. 

“You--!” 

The already boiling air of Avernus seemed to waver, shimmer, and it was the only warning they got before a wave of fire burst forth from Zariel with a cry of blackest fury. It burned hot, but fuck it - Karlach already had an infernal engine in her chest. She knew hot. She could withstand it. So she charged through it, not caring if it scorched her, and swung her greataxe in a wide enough arc to cut, deep, into Zariel’s shoulder.

There was a crack, and a scream; the flail attached to her wrist hung limply alongside her entire arm. Zariel was barely able to hold up the warhammer to block Karlach’s next blow and there they were again, locked in combat, their faces so close Karlach could see each flicker of flames in those eyes. They saw her, and hated.

“I was a fucking kid! I was dragged here and forced to fight! Was I not supposed to be protected from this bullshit?”

“You? A bodyguard idling her life away! I gave you a greater purpose! What is one life compared to--”

“And Elturel! The entire fucking city!” Karlach screamed, straining to push her back. The engine roared, blood rushed in her ears. “Were they not innocent? The very people the Hellriders were sworn to protect, too! The ones who followed you! The ones who died for you! Don’t give me bullshit about greater good! This isn’t about protecting anyone!”

“Enough!”

“No! You’ll listen to my every fucking word if I had to cram them down your throat!” Karlach disengaged, ducked under the blow. She heard Wyll crying out some incantation, felt the air shimmer around her - some sort of protection spell - one moment before Halsin summoned a wall of thorns right where Zariel stood.

Thorny vines reached up to grasp her and she cried out in fury. She incinerated them, of course, but they held on just long enough for Karlach to strike. The silvered blade cut through the air, and then through the wrist where the flail was attached. The bloody flail fell onto the ground, and Zariel screamed.

But not loud enough to cover Karlach’s own scream. 

“They died because they followed you, and you failed, and you tried to take Elturel! Yael died hoping you could be saved, and you tried to take her fucking city to the Hells!”

“I SAID ENOUGH!”

The warhammer fell, and this time Karlach was not fast enough to entirely avoid the blow. She was able to roll with it and avoid getting her every rib shattered, but it still hurt like a bitch and sent her tumbling across the ground. Zariel may have been on her the next instant, if not for the barrage of magic from Wyll and Halsin keeping her at bay. Karlach groaned, and forced herself to stand with a grunt. 

Out of the corner of her eye she could see that Lulu was still motionless, as though paralyzed, holding onto the sword with all limbs and her trunk. But all her attention, again, was for Zariel. So she met her gaze again, and sneered right back as one of Halsin’s healing spells hit, allowing her to breathe more easily, the pain in her ribs abating. 

“You can take your bullshit about a greater purpose and shove it up your ass. You don’t give a damn about protecting the Planes anymore. You only want the excuse to keep slaughtering demons because you like it, and it’s all you’ve go--!”

There was another shriek and the hammer fell, cracking the floor, causing the entire fortress to shake and all of them to fall back. Fury and hatred was a tangible thing now, coming off Zariel in waves, the most burning hatred and deepest despair. Pain, too, cutting through the very soul, almost unbearable - but just almost. Karlach could bear pain. She’d borne plenty already. 

So she stood, downed a potion, and back into the fray she went.

***

“I take it that diplomacy did not achieve the desired results.”

Raphael’s voice was barely audible beneath Zariel’s agonized shriek, and beneath the crack of thunder as Durge immediately stepped in, striking her before she could so much as try to deliver a blow to Halsin. Astarion was right behind them, bow drawn and some sort of shimmering arrow ready to let loose.

Raphael almost followed - if he had to get himself killed, he may as well do it properly - when Haarlep lay a hand on his shoulder and spoke. “Huh. What’s wrong with her?”

“Wh--” Raphael turned, and there she was - the hollyphant, silent at last. Well, not entirely silent: she was muttering ‘no, no, no’ repeatedly to herself, hovering in mid-air and clutching the sword they had gone through such pains to obtain, a distant cast to those beady little eyes. All in all, she was a wretched sight. A shattered mind; Raphael had seen plenty of those, many shattered by his own hand. He was always rather good at that, as many of the broken souls wandering across the House of Hope would have confirmed, if they could. 

He supposed he may as well try his hand at the opposite, if he did still have a powerful enough restoration spell left in his arsenal. As Zariel landed a devastating blow on Halsin’s summoned Myrmidon, Raphael took a few steps towards the madness-stricken hollyphant. 

He lifted his hands, and she did not react when they glowed, nor to his words. “Te curo.”

The light flared up a moment, engulfing the hollyphant. It faded quickly, and before it did she was already gasping, recoiling as though awakened from a deep sleep. 

“I-- what--” She looked around, eyes wide. There was another cry of fury and she turned - they all turned - to see that Zariel was unable to move, her legs having seemingly turned to stone. Ravengard’s doing, no doubt; he was staggering back just as Zariel beat her wings to try free herself, only for Astarion to put an acid arrow through one, and for Karlach to bring down her blade on the other. 

Zariel screamed again, and lifted the handless arm, began crying out words - a summoning , for her legions to come aid her. That would certainly mean their end, and Raphael didn’t pause to think: he stepped forward, and cast another spell. 

“Silentium!”

To Zariel’s fury and Raphael’s relief, it took effect before she could complete the summoning. She let out another cry of anger, or at least so the silent twisting of her features suggested. On the other hand, Durge turned back and grinned at him, all fangs. 

Good one, they mouthed, and lifted Mourning Frost. A sorcerer’s subtle spell required some more power but oh, wasn’t it useful to cast with no need of words. Above Zariel there was the spark of lighting, so bright it almost turned the red sky white, and then--

“NO! PLEASE! DON’T!”

Everything happened too quickly for Raphael to react, let alone to try doing something. The hollyphant darted forward, still clutching the Sword, and came between Zariel and the descending bolt of lighting at the last moment. Raphael saw Durge snatch back their hands, but it was too late.

The spell was cast, and lightning struck.

***

Everything happened in the blink of an eye, and in utter, eerie silence. Lighting came down, and Lulu rose to meet it; it went precisely as one may expect, when one takes the full force of a powerful spell. It threw Lulu back, and she fell some distance away; the sword clattered by her, skidded a few more paces before coming to a stop. It still glowed.

Lulu, on the other hand, remained motionless. 

Shit, Karlach said, or tried to. She went to the hollyphant without thinking, out of the sphere of silence Raphael had cast, and crouched by the stricken celestial. Why did you do it, she almost asked, but she did not. She knew exactly why she’d done it.

“Hey! Say something!” she called out instead, reaching to shake her. Lulu let out a groan and shuddered, but didn’t lift her head. Karlach was reaching for a potion of healing when a bone devil she could only assume was Haarlep, if anything for the fact they stood next to Raphael without trying to kill him, spoke.

“Huh. You may want to look behind you.”

Karlach did just that, and for a moment she could only stare, her mind blank of all thought. Zariel had broken free of the spell that had turned her legs to stone, but the battle had not resumed. Under her companions’ stunned gazes, she was walking slowly, almost tentatively, towards Lulu. One of her wings had been almost hacked off, and she left bloody footprints in her wake, but she did walk. Her eyes were fixed on the hollyphant, the fire in them faint in a way Karlach had never seen. The flaming halo, too, seemed to be petering out. 

“Fool,” Zariel rasped, and stepped closer, her face a mask of agony. Karlach backed off quickly, ready to attack if need be, but the archdevil of Avernus did not so much glance her way. She made it to Lulu, and fell to her knees. "You utter fool. What have you done?”

“I promised Yael-- I promised, ” Lulu gasped out. She tried to move, but her head fell back again, and she could only look at Karlach, at the sword a few feet away. “Please…”

Zariel lifted her gaze to look at the sword, still glowing within the scabbard, and Karlach put her greataxe away to pick it up, in a daze. She was vaguely aware of the fact her companions were approaching, ready to fight again if need be; for a moment, all that existed in the world was herself, her tormentor, and the sword that may put an end to the archdevil Zariel with no need to risk lives, no need to risk more of her life.

Then Karlach looked up, staring Zariel in the eye - it seemed so wrong, that lost look on those features - before she stepped closer, and held up the sword. 

It’s not just any sword, it’s sentient, Lulu had told them, and she had not been joking. The Sword of Zariel glowed brighter and slid out of the scabbard, lifting itself into the air before her old wielder. Celestial runes seemed to draw themselves into thin air around it, and the vibrations almost sounded like a song. 

Beyond the glow of the sword, Zariel was shedding tears like molten lava. Her only hand reached for Lulu, hovered a few inches from her golden fur, but she hesitated to even touch her. At last, she looked up at the sword, then at Karlach. “This,” she rasped, “is your chance to cut me down.”

For a moment, Karlach’s fingers twitched; for a moment, she almost did reach for her weapon. But then she saw it again, Gortash’s corpse in his silk robes, laying on a marble floor and somehow still smirking at her, even in death. 

He's dead, and he's no fucking sorrier than he was before. What was the point?

A rhetorical question, that. If she could go back, he’d kill him another dozen times. She’d help Astarion kill Cazador another two dozen times, too. But now that Zariel knelt before her willingly, she balked. Of fucking course.

Maybe she was tired. Maybe she wanted to find out if she’d really get an apology for all the bullshit she had to go through. Maybe it was both. Whatever it was, she pulled her hand away from her weapon. 

“... No. Fuck this. I didn’t claw my way out of the Hells to hand you a coward’s way out. So take that thing, and deal with what you’ve done. It’s all I’ve been doing for the past ten years.”

For a few moments, there was only silence and Karlach could almost believe someone had cast another silencing spell. Then, slowly, Zariel stood. Karlach found herself taking a step back, holding her breath, as Zariel's fingers brushed the hilt of the sword. There was a sound like sizzling flesh, and Zariel let out a pained gasp, but that pain seemed to break all hesitation at last. Her only had closed on the hilt and held on, tight, even as it seared her flesh. 

When she spoke again, her voice was a cry of pain, and sorrow, and yet something that was much like hope. “I, Zariel, supplicate myself before the holy light of justice. If it should accept me, I vow to take up this blade once more in its service.”

For a moment, nothing happened, her words echoing in the silence. 

Well, Karlach thought, that was a whole bunch of noth--

And then there was light. It cascaded from the skies, the same light they had encountered in the Citadel. Karlach stepped back, ready to call out for Astarion and Haarlep to get back, but there was no need: the light only fell on Zariel, and on Lulu - bright, so bright, Karlach had to close her eyes against it. Then the glare faded and she opened her eyes again, blinking. 

For a moment, all she saw was a wall of golden fur. “You’re back! You’re back! Oh, I knew it!”

It was odd, really, listening to Lulu’s voice coming from the immense golden mastodon standing before her. And hovering in the air on gold-feathered wings, her eyes covered by a blindfold, was the Solar she had seen in the stained glass at the Citadel. She remained in mid-aid for a few moments before slowly descending to the ground before her. 

She looked at Karlach for a moment - could she see, with the blindfold? - before she bowed her head and sank on one knee.  “Karlach,” she spoke, her voice a melody so unlike the rasping voice she knew. “You have my thanks, herald of dawn.”

Karlach opened her mouth to speak. She closed it. Opened it again. She heard voices, faintly, felt Wyll’s touch on her arm. In the end, she spoke with a voice that didn’t feel like her own, either. 

“I'm the herald of nothing. Just say you’re sorry.”

Zariel lifted her face, and again she seemed to be looking at her despite the blindfold. Her skin was flawless, unmarred by fire, the way Karlach’s own would never be again. Such a stupid detail to get fixated on, but she couldn’t help it. Those beautiful features twisted in sorrow.

“I am sorrier than words can ever express, for a wrong I know words alone cannot atone,” she spoke, and that was it. Karlach closed her eyes, leaned back against Wyll, and for a time she just cried and cried and cried. She wasn’t even sure if crying helped, to be honest. 

But the several pairs of arms around her sure as hell did.

*** One archdevil down, one more to go. ***

[Back to Chapter 26]

[On to Chapter 28]

[Back to Start]

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Hello, beautiful anon 💚

Small reminder to my followers to please send all asks to this blog and not my main!

The Bad Batch Happily Ever After Headcanons

Hunter:

His happily ever after consists of his entire squad being together and being safe. It's all he's ever wanted, and it will make him the most content. He doesn't care where, as long as they're together. Family is the most important thing to him. Ideally, they'll settle down somewhere quiet and peaceful, like Pabu. He'll raise Omega into a beautiful, well-rounded young woman who can also murder people. Then he'll watch the rest of his squad go about their new lives and smile like an idiot.

Echo:

His happily ever after is all about his brothers. Echo can never rest easy if other clones can't. Ideally, he wants to save them all and shuttle them back to Pabu for safe keeping, where they can build new lives and live how they want to. Once his mission is complete, he and Rex are going to retire themselves to Pabu and live out the rest of their days in the peace and quiet they deserve. They'll continue to work on helping other clones adjust, but their armor will sit neatly in the closet collecting dust.

Wrecker:

His happily ever after doesn't include blowing things up. In fact, Wrecker finds complete and total satisfaction in helping others. He puts his incredible strength to use in acts of service to the community around him. Someone needs something heavy moved? Wreckers got it. Someone needs something repaired? Wreckers got it. Wrecker probably has the smoothest transition from soldier life to civilian life, and he embraces it to its fullest. In his downtime, he fishes off the docks with his feet dangling in the water.

Tech:

His happily ever after revolves around his growing relationship with Phee. I am 100% on the Tech/Phee bandwagon, but I prefer the slow burn approach. They'll spend hours and even days just talking with each other, trading stories from the different places they've been, things they've seen, and experiences they've had. Enjoying each other's presence. Tech will always be Tech, and I know he'll still be working hard and finding away to improve everyone's lives on Pabu.

Crosshair:

His happily ever after involves the most painful redemption arc ever. Once reunited with his family, he has to work to gain everyone's trust again, and it's hard. Broken trust is the most difficult thing to mend. His first breakthrough is with Omega. Omega and Crosshair bonded on Mount Tantiss, and she's the one who convinced him that the Batch would take him back. So, he's very much a part of her life now, and with that, eventually, he gains Hunter's trust and respect again. But his brotherly love? Well, that was never lost to begin with.

Omega:

Her happily ever after is all about family time on Pabu. Once settled, she can finally be a kid. She makes friends, explores new places, learns new things, makes mistakes, crushes on boys, and all the other great things that kids her age get to do. She doesn't need to be protected anymore, not when she's safe on Pabu, but she does learn to protect herself and how to protect others. She loves working with the refugee clones and helping them transition to civilian life.

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[canonsinthehead]

(Repost) Naruto/Boruto Headcanon: Chocolate Flavored Potato Chips, The Marriage of Karui & Chouji pt.1

SINCE I COULDN’T FIND ANYTHING ABOUT IT AND NOBODY SEEMS TO CARE, HERE IS IT. Let’s discuss the infamous couple that got people confused but I love them. It is such an unusual match and THE POTENTIAL FOR GOOD CONTENT IS HUUUUGE but you know how Naruto/Boruto writers are (not even going to go on how they met). Anyways we will go into a story/headcanon I’ve came up with going over their marriage ceremony. Hope you enjoy.

I Dont know if it needs mentionning but this has nothing to do with the Hollywood/Modern AU on this blog.

As we have seen for Hinata & Naruto, marriages are momenst when many (different) people get together in one accord to celebrate love. Well in the case of Karui and Chouji it's no different but with a twist. Based on the nature of their relationship, it is an occasion for two different countries to ‘’visit’’ and ‘’experience’’ each other's cultures just like Temari and Shikamaru’s marriage would (still waiting for that damn samba of Suna to show up). Kumo is a huge country yet many people in Konoha don’t know much about it (it's not as familiar to them as Suna). It’s like ‘’that country over there’’ & ‘’those foreigners”. The fact that the event took place in Kumo and not Konoha was a source of stress (fear of the unknown or a catastrophe knowing Killer Bee would be MC-ing the event) and curiosity. I Want to mention in this headcanon, they get married after Naruto & Hinata, and everybody lives.

In other words, It's Chouji & Karui's wedding. Get ready for a ride full of groove, love, and surprises. Also, my writing during the headcanon is not as bad as this intro don’t worry…

This is a repost from my old deleted Tumblr blog, it's already written and will not take long to post all parts. I’m currently trying to finish and post every project collecting dust in the drafts and in my computer, so enjoy.

-REACTION TO THE EVENT

TEAM 7

Naruto is LIVING, he cannot wait for the ceremony to take place. He has been waiting, preparing his stamina and dance moves for weeks; Killer Bee gave him personal intel on how the ceremony would play out and he cannot shake off his excitement. He went and told EVERYONE he knew that high-quality, the best of the ninja world, grilled beef is going to be served at the event. Naruto kept announcing that if you wanted to grab your ONLY CHANCE IN THIS LIFETIME to see Shikamaru dance (or anything adjacent to it) DON’T WASTE IT AWAY! Since he is part of the best men/bridesmaid’s crew (along with Samui, Samui’s brother, Mabui, Darui, Omoi, and other Kumo ninjas making him and Ino the only ones from Konoha in the team) and has something special organized for the event.

Sasuke wants to DIE. Not only he tried the best he could to escape this event knowing it took place in Kumo. Just by hearing Killer Bee's announcement, his brain started melting. He can sense the tsunami of problems from here and wants NONE OF IT. Unfortunately, Karin and Suigetsu wanted to go for good food and ‘’to have a good time’’. Suigetsu kept saying how the people of Kumo know how to have fun, but Sasuke can see through him and knows he will be sneaking in the shadows to get an autograph from Killer Bee. He doesn’t and will never understand Suigetsu’s music taste.

When he thought (ohhhh he thought) his suffering couldn’t get any worse, Itachi and Shisui insisted to go with him (somebody kill him). First, he doesn’t understand why Itachi was so enthusiastic to go (like he knows something he don’t know like always), and let’s not get started with Shisui and his dorky clown behind. This guy tagged along Itachi in the name of some grilled beef (Sasuke don’t see what up with this piece of flesh everyone goes crazy about, he thinks it’s gross since he is the most strict pescatarian you can find out there). Shisui has been practicing his ‘’groove’’ (poor attempt to fit in based on stereotype, I mean he listen to too much rap.) Sasuke knows he has a trick up his sleeve, and he is preparing to be a nation-wide embarrassment (I mean even alien would shake their head at him).

When Sasuke wanted to rip off every hair from his head, Madara (yes, him looking youthful like he just got reanimated) tagged along in the name of representing the Uchiha Clan (look the lie smh). When he found out, he got into heated arguments with any family members he fell on to find the reason for this weird turn of events but regardless of who he asked nobody knows (not even Fugaku, yep he is alive). Madara says he is bringing Obito with him so he can change his mind from his dead girlfriend (lol Rin is alive and coming too).

Sakura thought it was just another exciting wedding ceremony to participate in, something special to her dear friends. Since her friends will help and participate in her (eventual) wedding she must join in also because she vowed to do the same for everybody. It is a fun time for her, tasting the food, meeting new people, seeing everyone looking cute, and enjoying wedding drama (alongside Ino).

 One day as she was trying to find what to wear for the event, Ino showed her bridesmaid’s’ dress who goes with the theme/colors of the event (red & satin).

While the dress had a simple design, Sakura felt it was a little ‘’underdressed’’. In her opinion, there is something a little provocative with the outfit. Ino laughed greatly at Sakura’s reaction saying not only that’s the theme BUT she must look her best to go along with the other bridesmaids (she met up with them because they had to organize many parts of the event). According to Ino’s words “Contrary to you Miss Big Forehead, the women of the Cloud (as the rumors/stereotypes say) are curvy/thick girls. NOT LIKE YOU MY ANGRY SALMON SAKURA”. She can’t let them outshine her for the sake of her pride (but don’t get it twisted Ino gets along with everyone, she has some other motives because she heard the members of Kumo’s national basketball team were going to be present at the event and if she could get it before settling down it was her last chance).

Above, it’s the type of vibe the bridesmaids' team.

Sakura cringed more at her remark (insult) about her chest than whatever else was on her blonde friend's mind, she though how could her friend believe such foolish ideas. I mean Karui is almost shaped just like her, Shanaronnnn. The chest shaming must stop.

As expected, Sai just goes along with the flow but is glad to attend the wedding. Sakura and Naruto keep a constant eye on him since going to a foreign nation, we are walking in a field of mine. If he could offend many Hyuugas at Naruto’s wedding (because what he said got misconstrued and he was way toooo blunt, a mix of both)

Sakura has a headache just thinking about it. this is NOT the place to say something offensive or out of place, no no no. She deeply talked about it to everyone behind Sai’s back who is the only one who lacks insight on many things especially the plans Ino have for the night. Better if he doesn’t know, thinks Naruto.

TEAM INO-SHIKA-CHO

Shikamaru’s aching back and legs can’t wait for this whole mess to be over. When they announced that the groomsmen and bridesmaids had to put together a choreography he almost melted in place. While his sentiment towards dancing (hum meaning making himself the target for jokes from Naruto and Kiba for eternity) wasn’t the best and still rubs on him badly, he really wants the ceremony to go well and to make Chouji happy. So as absurd as it sounds, he put a lot of energy and interest into the preparation for the event more than what people would assume he does. He rehearsed with passion and stood the test by showing a high level of interest  (the boy even cried for Chouji countless times and will more in the future).

 Off course, he will go lay in a closet when the music will come, and people will start dancing and celebrating. He is pleased with how the event’s preparations look for now. He is deeply happy that Karui’s entourage is accepting and very loving towards Chouji.

Honestly, Chouji is SUPER NERVOUS. He almost passed out many times during the preparation of the wedding. While him and Karui are fine together, the idea of many not being good enough to her entourage and family makes him shake deeply. A little bit like he thought he would never get married but time and effort proved him wrong.

On her side, Karui doesn’t worry about it as much as him. Since she will be moving permanently to Konoha after their wedding, she knows her friends took a double portion of adrenaline to make the most lit party in the ninja world on her special day.

For the pre-wedding period, Ino almost quarantined her shinobi sisters to prepare for the event, she told EVERYONE to dress in some form of satin since it’s the theme. She went out of her way to provide dresses and fabrics from Kumo since their satin doesn’t stain when you sweat (for all that dancing I guess it’s breathable). She is the ‘’I’ll get your dress for you’’ type girl like a manager. Her family worked hard to make all the various flower arrangements, someone’s lack of fashion sense is not going to ruin this. She is so excited and can’t hide it. Honestly, she never really thought a day like this would ever come (especially in the way it did with Karui), so she can’t stop talking about the wedding and deeply disses anyone who wants to say anything negative about it.

TEAM 8

Kiba (who is honestly not a ‘’foreigner friendly’’ type of person when it comes to Kumo at least) regardless of his bold demeanor was encouraged by the presence of the quality food Naruto talked about and the possibility of seeing beautiful chocolate/caramel women. I think the Rap/Hip Hop (music from Kumo) Naruto showed him and both enjoy went to his head.

Shino goes along in all respects even if he is stepping outside of his comfort zone, he has neither bad nor delusional expectations and just wants to have a good time.

Has for the Hyuuga, this wedding is a very delicate situation. Due to what happened concerning Kumo and their clan (tried to kidnap Hinata and literally got Hizashi killed). So off course going to Kumo (for whatever reason) is not hot topic with the Hyuugas especially Hiashi who was against Hinata & Neji (yep, he alive too) attending the event. He had legit reasons not to want anyone of his clan to participate but an interesting turn of events took place.

First Hanabi was completely against not attending the event. Her and Konohamaru planned on having a good ole funky time at the wedding like they did at Hinata & Naruto’s wedding regardless of being more formal (I guess). She is determined to find Konohamaru anything close or even a girlfriend since her last attempt at Hinata’s wedding failed miserably. Also, she thinks (like the rebel she is, according to Hiashi) that the favor must be returned, anyone involved can’t just move sky and earth for her sister’s wedding but then drop the ball or lack the same amount of enthusiasm for another shinobi’s engagement especially one we consider to be an ally or a friend. She is more than excited to go outside of the Land of Fire, it’s like a vacation Hanabi already has a sightseeing checklist and items to purchase before going home (apparently, they have great BBQ restaurants and amazing street food). So, no time to listen to Hiashi’s rants, she pressured Hinata to join her since she appears indecisive (as always) not wanting to offend her father but at the same wanting to go for the sake of her friends. Ino has been bombarding her ears for the past months about the wedding how it’s the greatest thing on earth EVEN BETTER THAN HER MARRIAGE (no shame smh).

TEAM GAI

Neji doesn’t want to go and is 1000% against them going (especially Hinata). Not because of the situation with his father (the past is the past, and he has passed over the point of holding grudges at least in this department), it’s more because of … (cue rolling drums and a light Hyuuga superiority complex come on). Yes, you guess it… PREJUDICE (I’m not going to call Neij racist, that’s a big accusation I would say the biggest wing of the conservative bird). The people of Kumo and the whole Land of the Lightning give a bad taste in his mouth. It’s like meat to a vegetarian, it’s just No (no more, no less, just no).

He’s like Sasuke but colder and less open, at least Sasuke will secretly stay and endure to watch Naruto being the king of the dancefloor for his motives. When Neji saw how Hinata was being dragged to the event anyway by Ino, the other shinobi sisters, and Hanabi by force, he talked to her about it but Hinata finally made it clear that she was going out of respect (that’s the reason she gave him). He quickly changed his mind and FINALLY accepted the endless begging from Lee to join the event with his teammates.

‘’You’re so considerate, Neji! We are going to have a good time!!’’ screamed Lee.

Quietly Neji kept to himself but he had the self-appointed mission of watching Hinata’s back during the event. He firmly believes (based on what he heard and his own unrequested opinion) that many thirsty men are going to try to make moves on her married cousin again based on his assumptions.

Tenten is on board with Neji and kind of doesn’t have a good impression of the ceremony regardless of what Ino repeats day and night. Killer Bee left a bitter taste in her mouth, but she still has a remnant of curiosity and doesn’t want to miss her chance to enjoy the event by leaving Lee by himself since she first taught Neji refused to come. Tenten has mixed feelings about the wedding because of her relationship with romance but excitement for the ceremony grew on her.

On the side, LEE CAN’T WAIT. Weddings have a special place in his since it’s the perfect example of love (holding back his tears). Because they had to travel to get to the ceremony, he prepared his clothes and luggage months in advance (yes months, LEE BEEN READY). HE EXPECT NOTHING MORE THAN A GOOD TIME WITH GOOD PEOPLE.

SAND SIBLINGS

TEMARI AND KANKURO JUST WANT TO SEE SHIKAMARU DANCE. NOTHING ELSE TO SAY.

Kankuro, really wants to measure the level of ‘’fancy-ness’’ of the event and he wants to make sure they take note so they can do better for what they have in store for Temari’s marriage. He’s in the front marching with Lee and Naruto full of enthusiasm.

The sensei are here for damage control which includes Asuma (still alive and going strong), Kakashi, Tenzo, Guy & Iruka. Someone bringout the whisky and the whole bottle of Tylenol for Kakashi’s aching back and officially 5th sleepless night.

NEXT PART