#and it feels like its going a little back into that direction which is my preferred taylor

[alchemistc]

Y'all were so insistent that I keep going with the Eddie Fixes It By Making It Worse post breakup fic.

This is officially a three-parter. Sorry. Or you're welcome.

You can read part one here

We have to make out in front of Tommy.

Buck's in the ice cream aisle, reminding himself that he has given himself three more days of moping and ignoring his diet before he gets his ass in gear and starts to live a life again. The Halo Top is mocking him, jeering and heckling as he goes for the Blue Ribbon. Mint chocolate, because Buck always loved it and he can almost forget the mock fight he'd had with Tommy three months in when he told Buck he refused to allow toothpaste flavored treats into his home, and how they'd barely gotten back to his place without a public indecency citation.

He stares at the text until his eyes cross.

What, he sends back, and slowly, cautiously, returns the pint of ice cream to its spot in the cooler. Maybe he should lay off the sugar. He's had enough.

Trust me

It comes in almost immediately and Buck tries to rewind, tries to figure out what any of this means, what the context is, why he's getting an actual Trust Me Bro from his best friend.

You've already met your last and it's not me comes crashing back to the forefront of his mind. He's had a full 36 hours to forget it, and he had been nearly there, nearly ready to chalk it up to Tommy trying to make him angry. Which he's been doing a really fucking excellent job of, lately. Almost like he knows all the buttons to push. Like Buck had given him the owners manual.

Tommy had meant Eddie? How could Eddie have possibly come to that conclusion? What the hell was he doing sending Buck half across town to the market for snacks when -

Buck judges the distance from this market to Eddie's. Then to Tommy's.

"Oh you mother -."

A woman squeaks by with her kid in the cart seat and glares.

---

Are you at Tommy's right now

No question marks. This is an accusation. Buck's thankful there are no perishables in his cart as he abandons it in the lane and hikes it towards the door. It's a dick move, and Buck feels, a little spitefully, like if anyone remembers him they'll remember him from the times he and Tommy giggled and play-fought down the aisles, so they'll think of Tommy when they think of the cart left behind. Resent him for it, maybe.

Not like Tommy isn't particularly good at just leaving things behind.

Yeah. Join me.

Buck breaks through the doors and feels a little woozy. This might be a panic attack. His chest fucking hurts.

🖕just get my stuff and meet me at yours. tell Tommy we burned all his shit

Eddie is an asshole. I'm not gonna LIE to the man. Also he definitely doesn't have an Evan box ready to go, so take what you will from that

Buck's still in that vicious cycle where he goes from angry to upset to sad in record time, no barriers in between, where every bruise feels like it's healing too fast so he keeps pressing in just to watch the color muddle. He hates this.

It'd be a Buck box, Buck texts back, just to release some of the pressure behind his temples, and he pulls in a few deep breaths before he jogs for the Jeep. He's gonna go home. Throw on the DVD copy of Sleepless In Seattle Tommy left behind and then maybe once that's done he'll throw the damn thing in a blender.

Are you coming or not?

Buck turns the ignition and peels out in a direction that won't lead to his own home, or the things Buck has been too much of a mopey bastard to pack up and return to their owner. At a red light two miles down the road, he shares his location.

Eddie sends back an ominous Hope you brushed your teeth today.

---

Eddie gets the door and it sucks just as much as if Tommy had. They barely ever spent time at Tommy's, and Buck can see it now for the boundary it was. When they had, though, their time had been split pretty evenly between Buck picking him up for a date, and Eddie wanting to leave the quiet echo of his own house to hang with them - a car on a lift and beers shared between them, Buck watching the pull of muscle beneath Tommy's shorts as he took Eddie down to the mat, Tommy's fingers drifting through the short curls at the back of Bucks head while Eddie yelled about triple-doubles and chatted with Tommy about how impossible coverage was for some guy named Joker.

Buck has never actually figured out who that guy was. Eddie hated the Mavericks and he hated the Lakers but Eddie also complained about the guy so much he definitely wasn't a Clipper.

Eddie gets him by the forearm when Buck shows clear signs of regretting this. Drags him through the front door before Buck can fully execute his spin and stomp back to the Jeep.

Tommy's next door neighbor had waved at him from her yard where she was doing something new with her display of bird sculptures, and Buck hadn't had the heart to do anything but raise his hand back.

It's less than ten seconds before Eddie is steering him down the hall, into the living room. It's cozy in here. Lived in. Mismatched furniture that somehow fits, a blanket thrown over the side of the couch, dark wood tables and light wood flooring and lamps that look like they came from an estate sale up in the Hills. A huge ass TV set above the mantle of a gas fireplace that Buck never even had the opportunity to see working before... Before.

Tommy is a shadow coming out of the kitchen, and Buck can't help but be a little pleased that he looks as crappy as Buck feels.

---

Eddie claps his hands together before either of them can get a word in. "Okay. Here's the thing. You're both dumbasses and there's a lot of shit that you guys gotta figure out on your own. But apparently you," he points at Tommy with the lip of a beer bottle. Corona. Tommy hates the stuff, and Buck is reminded once again how dearly Eddie loves him, "need empirical evidence that there's no deeply repressed sexual tension between Buck and I. So."

"You're insane," Tommy says, and Buck feels like snapping at him. He's probably right. This is an insane thing to do. Eddie ambushed his ex and then ambushed Buck in the frozen treats aisle and now he wants to kiss Buck to prove a point? What??

Eddie ignores it. Turns to Buck. "How do you wanna do this?"

And now would be the time, actually. Now would be the time to cut the thread, make it clean, break it for good. Only despite his protest, Tommy is staring between them and his expression looks almost... hungry. Frightened, at the same time. Oh. Oh.

He really had thought...?

Eddie's a fucking idiot. Buck doesn't want to kiss him. He's squared with the fact that he definitely had a crush when they first met and he's definitely been attracted to Eddie and just not realized it but he doesn't want Eddie. He doesn't want a life with Eddie, not like that. He doesn't- He isn't -

He loves Eddie more than almost every other person on the planet, but he's not in love with him.

Buck squares his shoulders. Nods. "Yeah, okay," and then he's taking three strides to meet Eddie at the coffee table.

---

"Oh come on, are you serious?"

Buck ignores the exclamation from the peanut gallery. Tries to figure out where to put his hands. He's never really noticed the height difference before. It's barely anything - a couple inches at most - but it feels like he's looming, this close. Which is stupid. He's been this close to Eddie a million times.

Eddie bends his knees to set the beer down. Darts his gaze back up to Buck.

Buck's seen him pull this move before, and has to bite down the urge to cackle because those big brown cow eyes have charmed women up and down California and probably plenty of Texas too but the only time Buck's ever seen them look genuine was when he was looking at Shannon.

He's got a good face. Angular in all the right places, expressive in a way a lot of men try to hide. Good eyelashes, clear skin.

Eddie gets a thumb in one of Buck's belt loops and tugs.

It's a good move. It's a move that has inspired Buck to sink to his knees on more than one occasion with the right men. Man. Just the one man.

He desperately bites back a giggle when the front of their thighs brush and Buck feels nothing more than the heat coming off Eddie.

Eddie's flushed, just a little, like he's well aware how ridiculous this all is, but he's got his I'm So Fucking Serious face on and there is a part of Buck, something fucked up and broken and wrong, that wonders how Tommy would feel to see it. To know that Buck is out there in the world kissing people who aren't Tommy. It's not like he'd ended things because he didn't care for Buck, because he wasn't attracted to him. It's gotta sting, right?

Buck gets a hand on Eddie's waist, just above his hip bone. He's never actually paid attention to how much more slim Eddie is, before, how big Buck's hands feel against him.

The night Tommy had first kissed him, Buck had spent an indeterminate length of time replaying every second of the interaction. The lead up, the frank honesty, the way Buck's entire body had followed the flow of Tommy's. Heart racing, body thrumming: when Tommy had ducked his head, when he'd laughed, when he'd opened up his body language and dropped a tiny morsel of his heart, Buck had felt himself drawn in.

The lips that had caught his had set him alight.

Eddie shifts his weight and blinks up at him and for half a second Buck wants this to be a good kiss - earth shattering, life changing. He wants to feel it. Wants it to be better than every kiss he and Tommy ever shared.

The pointer and middle finger he uses to tilt Eddie's chin up are petty as hell.

[mc-lukanette]

Marinette paced aimlessly around the room, only stopping occasionally to cast a glance at the container of cinnamon rolls on her table.

"It'd be weird to just show up, right?" she mumbled to herself. "It's not like I'd need an invite or anything - I wouldn't even know how to ask for one - but he might be busy, or maybe he wouldn't want to see me if it's not for hero work, or—"

"If you'd like to see him, you only have to ask."

She froze, spinning around to face Sass, who was lounging on top of the container with his tail swaying slowly back and forth. Frowning, she pointed out, "But you introduced us so we could support each other."

"Yes. And?" He grinned.

"W-well... I shouldn't just visit without a reason, and it's probably not a good idea to jump universes whenever I want to..." Her lips pressed together as she fidgeted with her fingers, struggling to hold onto her own overthinking. "Right?"

Sass slowly came off of the container, flying to the center of the room at a height slightly above the top of her head. "He's fighting an akuma according to my other self, but he should finish soon. You can wait for him."

Marinette was always impressed when Sass did this. As a kwami of possibilities, he naturally had the power to show her other places - other universes - but it continued to feel unreal actually seeing it. The symbols going along his back and tail would glow as he flew around in a tall, oval-esque shape, and the Sass on the "other side" would apparently do the same in the opposite direction. The portal would form starting at the edges, then inwards until the light would fill up the entire space there.

It was difficult for her to look directly at it at times due to how otherworldly it was, so she looked away and focused on picking up the little container. She heard the portal completing behind her, confirmed when Sass flew over to peek at the clear, cute little thing in her hands.

"It would have been a shame for your work to go to waste," he said, a lightheartedness in his tone.

Marinette winced in embarrassment, realizing that he'd seen the blatant bribery inside. Popping open the container from the side, she reached in and pulled out a hard-boiled egg, which Sass happily took.

Walking past him and towards the portal, she stopped halfway, looking back at him to start asking, "Oh, if there's an akuma...?"

He wrapped his tail around the egg in delight, waving a paw dismissively at the question without meeting her eyes. "All Sass are connected. If I know, Coccaerus's Sass will know, and we will bring you back."

The reassurance gave her confidence. She nodded at him, then finally stepped through the portal.

—————

When Marinette took her first step into the alternate universe, it sounded oddly familiar. She blinked rapidly, trying to make her vision adjust after the brief bout of dizziness that was common from crossing from one world to another.

The first thing she could observe was that she was in Coccaerus's - Luka's - room, made obvious by the guitar she had seen him with resting against the wall, She took in the sights, eyes moving from one wall to the other, seeing things that she knew she hadn't before, but in a space that was distinctly known to her.

"...Am I on the Liberty?" she wondered aloud.

The current universe's Sass hovered nearby, replying, "Yes. This is our master's home."

She was tempted to ask further, but noticed Sass's eyes directed down towards the container. With a fond roll of her eyes, she pulled out the other hard-boiled egg inside and handed it off to him.

Marinette had known already that there were differences between the two universes, the biggest she knew of being that she didn't exist in Luka's nor he in hers, but she hadn't thought that there could be people in place of others. She was so used to the semi-gothic aesthetic of Juleka's room that seeing Luka's own in its place was jarring, yet incredibly fascinating at the same time. Anarka must've still had a child, just Luka rather than Juleka, and she wondered what might've happened had they been born twins, or simply siblings.

The opening of a window caught her attention, and she turned to see Coccaerus swooping in. He landed quietly on the floor, but froze when he saw her.

"Marinette?"

She smiled sheepishly, wiggling the container at him. "I-I made cinnamon rolls for us?"

He stared, eyes flicking back and forth between her and the sweets, then grinned and strolled up to her. He waited for her to pop the container open so he could reach inside and pull one of the cinnamon rolls out, immediately taking a bite.

She brightened at how eager he seemed, but couldn't help asking, "You're not going to detransform?"

He leaned towards her, swallowing his bite before replying, "I can't let Tikki know you brought these."

She blushed and used grabbing her own cinnamon roll as an excuse not to meet his gaze. She bit into it, pretending not to hear his cute little giggle, and searched her mind for another topic.

"Ah, I'm glad you're here," she said, then stiffened and clarified, "I mean, because you're not where I'm from—there's someone else. A friend of mine, Juleka. She's here instead of you."

As both of her hands were occupied, she shoved the cinnamon roll into her mouth temporarily so she could gesture around the room with her icing-covered fingers. Coccaerus followed the gesture, though oddly more at her fingertips than the room itself.

He straightened, humming in thought at the information she'd dropped. "Really?"

She nodded due to being unable to talk, pulling the cinnamon roll out and taking in what had already been in her mouth.

Coccaerus's lips parted to speak, but he stopped as he looked her over. Pointing over towards his bed, he said, "I'll grab some napkins from the kitchen. Do you want to sit down?"

Wide-eyed as he took the container to put it away and moved past her, she almost choked, trying to swallow her bite quickly enough so she could speak before he'd left. "You don't have to do that! I came to give you these, but I don't want to be a bother."

"You're not," he insisted, already disappearing into the other room.

Helpless, Marinette turned to Sass in the corner, barely catching the little smirk he had on before he continued nibbling at the large egg in his paws. She'd been at the Liberty so many times, but it was so different knowing that it wasn't Juleka's room she was in, but a boy's room.

She tried not to acknowledge that it wasn't even about it being a boy's, but being Luka's. It would've been nice to have the extra support from any ladybug holder, but she'd been glad it was him. He provided something beyond advice, comfort, or helping out in big akuma battles when needed.

Staring at the bed, she finally willed herself to move and walked over to it. Putting her clean hand on the bed for support, she sat up onto it and got comfortable, idly licking her lips at the thought that she might look embarrassing with icing all over them.

When Coccaerus returned, she noticed him practically shoveling the rest of the cinnamon roll into his mouth. She was alarmed and almost asked why, but then his earrings beeped rapidly. She had never seen a boy so efficiently lick icing from his fingers before, so quick that he was done before the detransformation was complete and Tikki flew out to give them privacy.

It was quite mesmerizing, actually.

Luka joined her on the bed, passing her a small stack of napkins and only taking one for himself to clean the saliva off his fingers. "I'm torn."

"Huh?" She stared cluelessly at him, having still been stuck on the icing thing. "Torn on what?"

"I'm glad you have a friend back at home, but I wish I could've met you earlier," he clarified. "We only got to meet because we both happened to become guardians."

"Oh. Yeah, I..." She stared down at her lap, twisting a corner of one of the napkins between her thumb and index finger. "Yeah. We could've spent so much more time together if we didn't have to deal with going between universes."

"The casual universe jumping," he added playfully with the tone of someone who, like her, didn't deal with anything remotely magical before receiving a miraculous.

They both chuckled, and Marinette noted to herself that they were doing it again. Their jobs took so much focus and their role for each other was to be support, but when all the chaos died down, they got into something surprisingly friendly, almost bordering on flirtatious if she was honest with herself. It was crazy, because they were both busy ladybug guardians with sporadic schedules from totally different worlds, but they had still found each other through their respective Sass and everything had gone well for them so far.

"Going well" was also about as perfect as she could ever ask for from her life, making it even more surreal. She giggled, more to herself than anything else, and leaned against Luka affectionately.

"If it's so casual, that makes it sound like I can come whenever I want," she dared to point out.

He didn't pull away from her. Rather, he leaned towards her, wrapping an arm around her waist and bringing her closer to him. The slight distance that had made her lean a little awkward before was quickly closed, a squeak escaping her as she felt his head against the top of hers.

His voice a soothing whisper, he told her, "That's exactly what I mean."

Her head jerked up to look at his face, him moving accordingly so she didn't accidentally bash their heads together. She'd been joking just a bit, not wanting to get her hopes up, but he looked entirely serious. The only thing distinctly not serious about him was the icing right next to his lips, taunting her.

It somehow didn't look embarrassing on him as she feared it would on her.

Reigning in the temptation, she reached up with her free hand, then realized it was free and brought it back down to grab a napkin. She wiped the icing, as well as a few crumbs, from his lips, which he welcomed and kept entirely still throughout the entire needlessly slow process.

"...Um, Luka—" she began.

Before she could say anything else, the sound of hands slapping against the nearby doorframe made her jump. She pressed herself against Luka for security, eyes darting on alert to the source of the noise: Anarka, looking just as bold and chaotic as she knew in her own world.

"Hey, Luka! I'm—" She ceased talking as she took in the sight of the two of them, brows raising in curiosity.

Marinette reminded herself that she was the fearless hero Ladybug to fight the urge to hide her face in Luka's chest. She could only imagine how this looked: Anarka's son, arm around who was a complete stranger to her, and said stranger was not only leaning against him but also had been in the process of wiping his lips for him as if he didn't have an entire hand he could've used to do it himself. The reality that she couldn't tell her was that she was a superhero partner to him from the multiverse, so she needed another excuse.

And the best excuse, in her mind, was an interpretable one with plausible deniability.

Thinking fast, she shoved nearly half of the remaining cinnamon roll into her mouth, chewing and bunching it up just enough to speak but not so much that it would be anything intelligible. She babbled complete muffled nonsense, making casual hand gestures like waving, pointing, and others that definitely meant nothing but could've been anything with the right mindset.

Without looking at him, she held the rest of the cinnamon roll up towards Luka's face, silently encouraging him to do the same if he felt it appropriate. She pushed aside all thoughts of an indirect kiss to consider later, focusing on the task at hand.

She felt an indication that Luka had bit in and slowly opened her fingers so he could inhale the rest of it. The feeling of his lips brushing her hand was also a thing she filed away for later, though she didn't doubt it showed on her face.

Having a reputation already for going along with all of her crazy ideas, Luka waved as well and spoke with words that might as well have been classified as sounds, just as she had. Anarka simply stared the whole time, watching the two of them pretend to make conversation with her that served as an adequate explanation for everything she'd just seen.

When they ran out of fake gestures and words to not actually say, they could only wait for the reaction and deal with what was to come. Beyond her Ladybug persona, no one had ever seen Marinette in Luka's world before, so it was uncharted territory.

Not missing a beat, Anarka grinned. Throwing her hands up, she admitted, "Well, I was heading out and thought I'd ask if y'needed anything, but I see you've got everything right here." She turned, but kept her eyes on them for a moment to add, "Introduce me properly sometime, hm~?"

With that, she left as if she'd never appeared in the first place. Marinette's heart raced, and she was stuck in place for a solid minute before exchanging equally red-faced expressions with Luka.

Uh oh?

[the-guppy-fish]

Cold snake.

Tags: colleagues to friends to lovers, hesitation, confessions, callsign: Viper, its a little long, but! smut will follow, 3 parts...maybe more to come.

Content warnings: none. (other than my possible spelling mistakes)

Summary: Ghost being a little soft...for now. (2,8k words)

About Vipers: named after the family Viperidae, they are venomous and have long hinged fangs that permit deep penetration and injection of their venom. These snakes can decide how much venom to inject depending on the circumstances. Rattlesnakes for example, have evolved the strike-and-release bite mechanism, which provides a huge benefit to snakes, by minimizing contact with potentially dangerous prey animals.

Vipers come in many different sizes and colours, they are highly adapted to their environment and the type of prey they hunt.

You and Ghost fled the warehouse. The mission had been successful. While Ghost kept the coast clear, you retrieved the confidential documents, Price wanted you to secure from a target warehouse. Once the documents were safely tucked inside the pocket of your tactical vest, you gave Ghost the sign to get out of there.

Just as you left the warehouse, you heard Price in your earpiece,

"Ghost, Viper, get the hell out of there. Enemy activity confirmed by drones. Safehouse Foxtrot-Whiskey-Bravo is clear. Pick-up tomorrow at 1700 at the safehouse. Radio-silence until then. Do not answer. Price out."

You and Ghost simply nodded at each other, silently running off in direction of the safehouse, while keeping eyes and ears open for any activity in and around the warehouse. Once you had laid back a decent amount of space between you and the rusty warehouse, running through tall grass sprinkled with frost, you walked the remaining distance to the safe house in silence, still being alert to your surroundings.

A few hours pass, and the sun begins to set. You're still marching towards the safehouse, now crossing a large meadow surrounded by trees. The cold creeps into your nostrils and fingertips, as the warming rays of sunlight slowly hide beneath the horizon. Your breath is visible, pulsing through the fabric of your balaclava in small clouds. Ghosts breath-clouds are much larger than yours, his huge lungs needing a lot more air than yours, to feed oxygen to all his muscles.

You can see the small safe house not too far away, hiding in between large pine trees. While walking the last few hundred meters, your eyes fall onto Ghosts back, clad in tactical gear and tucked-in weapons. The leg of his camouflage trousers slightly fluttering in the cold breeze, the grey fabric hugging his hips just right. Do you feel bad about looking? Not at all. It is not the first time your eyes linger on him, how could you not? When he is so largely built and looks like he has been sculpted by a group of goddesses, who knew exactly what they were doing?

Your relationship to Ghost used to be very professional. You only spoke together when needed. Always kept the conversation light and work-related. When you were surrounded by the rest of the 141, you barely even glanced at each other.

It was safe to say, you were surprised beyond your imagination, the day Ghost began small-talking with you.

A few weeks back, when you were home on base, the huge brute of man asked you, if you had had a good day. Just like that. Over dinner in the mess hall. While it was just the two of you. Normally you would have just ate in silence and then given the other a polite nod once you finished, and left. But no. You carefully chatted with him, being slightly SUPER suspicious of his friendliness. After finishing your meals, the conversation naturally died, and you went to each your dorms.

The following evening it happened again, and then he evening after that, and all the following ones. But always when it was just the two of you. Ghost would go completely silent if any one else joined you.

You slowly began to talk more and more, sharing more and more details of your lives. Even though Ghost rarely shared anything from his life. If he did, oddly enough, he mostly shared about his favourite meals or new movies in the telly.

You began to talk throughout the day, not just at dinner. When he caught you in the briefing room or in either of your offices, he initiated a conversation, eyes fixed to your face, looking at every little polite smile and expression you made.

But always, when you two were alone.

One time, Soap walked in on one of your conversations in the common room. You had stood with your back to Ghost, rummaging in the small tea-kitchen, trying to make a cuppa for the both of you. Ghost watched your every move, how your clothes hugged you frame, while listening intently.

You did not notice Soap entering, before turning around and only seeing Soap.

Ghost nowhere to be found.

"Who are ye talking to bonnie?", Soap looked at you with confused eyes.

"Uhm, I was just talking to Ghost." you answered, perplexed at Ghosts sudden disappearance.

"Seems like he flew away, bon. Don't feel bad about it, you know how he can be." You tried to hide your disappointment, while Soap eyed the second cup of tea in your hands with large puppy eyes.

When you met Ghost later that evening at dinner, he initiated conversation as he did every dinner, but the conversation failed to reach around his disappearance. You let it go, thinking he had to leave for some important reason unbeknownst to you.

The conversation moved along, you finished eating and you chatted back and forth, like some table tennis ball experiencing the match of its life.

While talking you accidentally unconsciously touched his arm, which was resting on the table you ate at, while telling a (to you) very exhilarating story about your latest attempt at making a new soup at home.

You were so enthralled with your story telling, that you completely disregarded the shift in Ghosts form.

He went from sitting sluggishly, resting his elbows on the table, arms crossed, and looking at your lips, while you rambled on and on about that soup.

Ghost cared little about soup, but when you spoke about it, it seemed to be the most interesting topic of conversation ever. When your fingers found his forearm and snaked around his bare skin, he froze. His mind short circuiting and vision blurring. Still looking at you, feigning his newfound interest of soup, every fibre in him focussed on your soft skin on his rough and scarred one. He fell deeper and deeper into the blur your touch had created in his mind. All his thoughts vapourised and no sound was picked up by his ears.

All to sudden, Ghost was ripped from his hyper focussed state by your voice.

"Ghost? Hey, what do you think?" He blinked the fog away from his eyes, cleared his throat, and croaked out a quick "sorry?", focussing his eyes on yours, mind still running laps in his skull over your fingers resting on his arm.

"I asked, whether you think the soup would be better with or without garlic?", you looked at him with a small smile, expecting his answer curiously.

Ghosts ears peaked at your question, and he could not avoid the small smile forming on his lips under the fabric covering his face.

"With." was all he managed to say, which earned him a satisfied smile from you.

"I'll try that next time then."

With that, you gave his arm a quick squeeze and lifted your fingers from his skin to pick up your tray. Your touch and bold display of comfort around him made his mind grow foggy again.

"You done as well?" You stood up with your hands on your tray and nodded to the one beside him. He gave you a silent nod, and you pulled his tray across the table to balance yours on top of it.

While you went up to return the trays, Ghost sat completely stunned, waiting for you to return, so he could walk you to your dorm (another thing he had absentmindedly begun doing).

Back in the meadow, you and Ghost had reached the treeline and made it to the poor example of a safe house: a simple shed, neatly tucked away by the large pines, small enough for you to question whether there was space enough for two rooms in it.

And you were right. The sheds interior consisted of a small fireplace, a bunkbed, a large chest and a table with two chairs. Everything looked well used and ancient in your eyes, the smell of old cigarettes and firewood confirmed your suspicion about this place being many decades older than you.

Ghosts deep voice tore you from your disappointed thoughts about the safehouse.

"You're on top." While he began stripping out of his gear, placing it neatly beside the lower bunk, he had claimed for himself.

You followed along, closing the wooden door and bolting it shut with the large piece of wood acting as a lock. You laid your gear at the foot-end of your bed, as to keep it close while you slept, should anyone want to pay your shed a visit during the night. Your gut told you that this place was safe enough, for you to relax in. The remote location, the bolted door, and Ghosts presence, assured you that this was good enough for tonight.

Neither you nor Ghost lit up the fireplace, knowing the smoke outside and light from inside the shed could lead anyone to your super cozy hiding spot.

After having settled into the thin mattress, under a thick wool blanket Ghost had pulled from the chest, you tried to get some rest.

But sleep never came to you, as the cool air crept inside and under your blanket. For what felt like hours, you laid crumpled up like a small ball to keep, whatever heat was left, close to your body. But nothing worked, the cold bore into your skin and settled uncomfortably in your bones.

You scolded yourself: as a special forces soldier, you were supposed to fend for your self in every possible way; and you usually did so, perfectly.

But this never ending, merciless cold was going to beat you.

Your stubbornness kept you from climbing down to look for another blanket. But also the thought of waking up Ghost; anyone who woke him up from his precious few hours of sleep, would feel his wrath in the morning.

So you stayed. Freezing and shivering under your heavy blanket. Just existing in the coldness, hoping that some heat would come your way, at some point.

Heat never came, but a deep voice did instead.

"Viper?" Ghost called out quietly.

Your teeth clattered at you let out a weak "yeah?".

Ghosts gravelly voice made its way to your ears again, "If you don't stop shaking my bunk with your shivers, you can sleep on the floor." His oh so humorous comment made you shiver even harder, and you mumbled a quiet "sorry", wrapping the blanket impossibly tighter around you.

Once again you tried falling asleep, willing the shivers to stop, only for them to return with even greater force than before.

You heard Ghost sigh from his mattress beneath you. The bed croaked and you sensed a shadow move in line with your eyes, over the edge of the bunk bed.

Ghost had gotten out of his blanket-cocoon and stood centimetres from your icy face.

"Did you not hear me before?", his hot breath fanned over your frozen features, warming you just enough to answer him in a full sentence.

"I did..sorry.. I just can't get warm." Your voice came out much weaker, than you had hoped for, and seemingly did nothing to stir empathy within Ghost. As if not accepting your weak apology, he pulled the blanket from your shivering form and quietly said "get down."

Puzzled, you unfolded your cold body in a sloth-like motion, slowly climbing down the bed. You stood in front of Ghost, not believing that he actually wanted you to sleep on the floor.

After all, you were the same rank, so he could not order you to do it. So you stood before him, shivering furiously, waiting for him to actually tell you to sleep on the hard, wooden floor, just so you could weakly scold him for trying to punish you.

He said nothing, sat down on his mattress and rolled in under his blanket, his back facing the wall. You stayed on your feet, absolutely confused beyond your mind.

You knew Ghost could act weird from time to time, but this was beyond the usual weirdness of him.

The moonlight from outside only cast enough light inside, for you to make out the outline of his body. Once he had settled, he opened the blanked towards you, which only sent a waft of cool air towards you. As you stayed on your sock-clad feet, still so, so confused, Ghost quietly told you "come 'ere. Can't 'ave you freezing like that."

And like a much faster sloth you slid into the oh so warm comfort of his strong arms and the thick blanket covering him. He wrapped his arms around you, making sure that the blanked covered every millimetre of you.

"Christ Viper, you're like an icicle." His hot breath fanned over your head as he pulled you into his warm embrace.

Your shivers slowly ebbed out, leaving you smushed up, face first, against Ghosts t-shirt covered chest, arms awkwardly tucked close to your own chest. You became embarrassingly aware of just how close you were to one another.

You tried to shimmy away from him, just a little bit; get a some space between the two of you. Keep it professional, you know. But a strong hand around your middle kept you close.

"Stay", Ghost whispered, hugging you closer again, wordlessly telling you that he didn't mind you being this close to him.

With the warmth seeping into your body, the words returned to your mouth in a quiet whisper, "I thought you wanted me to sleep on the floor."

A quick, exhale blew onto the top of your hair and his low voice sounded above your head, "I did" , followed by an even quieter whisper, "but then i remembered, that i like you."

Heat rose to your face, warming your cheeks. You knew Ghost tolerated you, maybe even enjoyed your company from time to time, he definitely liked looking at you, based on how often you felt his eyes on you.

But that he liked you. Oh boy.

"I didn't know you liked me", you whispered into his chest, raising your face to look up at his moonlit, masked one.

His eyes found yours in the dim light, "I do. 'ave for a long time."

Ghosts rough fingers slowly slid up along your spine, fingers gliding over the soft fabric of your shirt. His fingers reaching and curling around the, now warm, skin of you neck. You felt his thumb soothingly swipe back and forth on that very soft patch of skin on the side of your neck.

You hummed at his admission, melting into the touch of his fingers on your skin.

Not knowing how to respond verbally, you turned your palms from your own soft chest, to his much more muscular one, gently squeezing his muscles, to let him know his whispers were heard.

The warmth had truly settled inside you by now, and your eyelids grew heavy, threatening to block the view of Ghosts dark, moonlit eyes looking at your tired ones.

During a dangerously slow blink of your eyelids, Ghosts hand squeezed your neck; just enough to get your attention, but not hard enough for you to open your heavy lids in attention.

"Get some rest Viper. Sleep well." His whispers made a tired smile tug at your lips, and you responded with another whisper.

"Goodnight Ghost."

In front of your closed eyes, a satisfied smile grew behind Ghosts mask. His eyes glanced over your face, taking in the sight of your calm face: eyes closed, brows at ease, just a hint of a smile on your lips and deep, steady breaths blew quietly through your nostrils.

He almost couldn't believe that you were actually sleeping in his arms. He could almost not believe that he had had the courage to pull you close and be soft with you.

His troubling and traumatic past made him fear close relationships, afraid that the people close to him would get hurt. With you though, it was different. Ghost knew you could handle any challenge thrown at you, just like himself. He knew how strong and capable you were, and it pulled him closer to you. Made his heart skip a beat or two, when ever your mere presence filled the room with authority and control.

He had wanted to let you this close to him for a while the last many many weeks, but could never muster the bravery, and did not want to scare you away. To not make you think he was some creep, like other soldiers on base, he took it slow; showed you more and more of himself in adequate amounts.

Ever since your soft fingers had snaked around his arm that evening in the mess hall, he had wanted to reciprocate the comfort and affection, but an occasion had never come along.

Until now. And he was filled with glee, deep into the marrow of his bones.

Ghost held you a little tighter, feeling your body against his. He sucked in the warmth of your skin against his and sweet smell of your hair. His smile only growing larger and more giddy (not an emotion, Ghost was truly familiar with yet)

Gently, he brought his masked lips down on your forehead, giving you a feather light kiss.

"Sweet dreams little snake"

[quotidian-oblivion]

*ahem*

I'mNotGonnaTurnThisIntoARantI'mNotGonnaTurnThisIntoARant-

So, as a fan who loves analyzing the fuck our of everything and anything, I have obviously peeked at some of Joker's stuff.

What I generally do with my fics is that I take every version of Joker I've been exposed to so far and mush them all together, taking the aspects which are useful to the plot (as one does). But when I think of Joker, generally, it changes. I find him to be very malleable in terms of plot and character and writing him is very easy because he cooperates with the plot really well

Unlike the fucking Wayne family

Anyways, under the cut, here is my personal interpretation and choice of portrayal for Joker!

ShitITurnedThisIntoARant.

To understand the Joker, we gotta understand Batman first. Not Bruce, I'm pretty sure we all understand Bruce well, I mean Batman.

Because the Joker was created by comic writers to rival Batman in every way! Joker is Batman's commensalistic parasite. Commensalism is when an organism attaches itself to the other, and it benefits while the other organism is unaffected. Joker needs Batman to be the Joker. Batman doesn't need Joker to be Batman. It's a very interesting thing I've observed and I believe that this is one of the key motivations for Joker to do the things he does.

Joker knows he can't operate without Batman. An example of this is clearly in Batman: The Dark Knight Returns Part I and II. In the movie, Bruce gives up being Batman cuz he got too old for it and a lot of the villains were sent to rehabilitation. And Joker was shown to be catatonic, unresponsive, a vegetable, dead except for his lungs expanding and heart beating.

Until... Batman came back (cuz plot happened) and he saw that he came back on TV. His mind spurred back to life and in a blink, Joker became himself again. All because Batman came back and gave him a purpose.

As for the motivation of "its fun", yes, the Joker does want to have fun. But his kind of fun is wildly different to a normal person's. He doesn't think riding a roller coaster is fun. But his sense of fun is always directed at something or someone. And almost all the time, it's Batman. But during times it's not, it's always to show the dark side of humanity (which I'll be speaking about more later).

Besides motivation, here is how I've broken down his character:

Morality

Born to be the opposite side

Symbolism of humanity

Thoughts and feelings on Robin

How his mind works

How comic writers (unsurprisingly) failed to portray his real character

Morality

Not all of my sources will be from comics and movies. I'm going to quote soms fanfics and my own thoughts too becauss Joker's character is so vast and open.

In terms of morality, the best way I've seen someone portray this was the fic Christened by StoriesAreMagic. I haven't finished reading it 😅 but the first few chapters include Joler Junior Tim and his thought process behind what his dad (Joker) taught him.

He repeatedly goes through what is good-good, bad-good, bad-bad, good-bad. Good-good and bad-bad are things like murder and stealing which is generally unacceptable by society. Bad-good and good-bad are what is deemed "right" or "wrong" by Joker.

Now this was interesting because it implies that Joker knows what the right and wrong things to do are (which kinda throws away his insanity plea a little bit). And because he knows them, he knows exactly what to do.

But, he doesn't just kill people for fun. And one thing you'll see me repeatedly coming back to is his motivations - Joker cannot exist without Batman.

If we want to write a good Joker, then he can't be killing people and tormenting them willy-nilly. That's not how Joker's mind works. He can't have fun that way. His sense of fun needs to cause someone pain. Someone who he likes. He won't kill a random person cuz he wants to watch their SO suffer. He will kill a random person because he wants to watch Batman or Robin or Red Hood or Nightwing or someone writhe in pain with the knowledge that they failed to save someone.

It's the reason he killed Jason. He had fun tormenting him by watching the boy writhe in pain. Then he had fun killing himby watching Batman writhe in pain at losing his son.

So Joker's moral compass will always be targetted towards his sense of fun - how much he can torture Gotham's vigilantes/Commissioner.

To write a good Joker, would be to have him strike at Batman's insecurities through murder or torture or other things.

Opposites

I googles why comic writers created Joker and the answer was that Robinson (the writer) loved the psychological aspect of Batman's character and created villains to oppose that. And the biggest thing we know about Batman is that he's not fun, he doesn't have fun, he doesn't laugh, is stoic, is organized, precise, planned, and in grief. That is always who Batman is going to be. So Joker opposes Batman in every way of that. He is "fun", he is always looking to have "fun", he always laughs, is silly, is chaotic, wild, unpredictable, and always "happy". The biggest opposite here is obviously that Batman, the darkness, is the good guy while Joker, the light, is the bad guy.

A while ago, I ranted to a couple friends on discord about this exact seperation, let me see if I can find it.

I really go off about it lol

But the short thing is, Joker and Batman are like the yin and yang. There is light in darkness (Batman) and there is darkness in light (Joker).

To write a good Joker would be to make all the things that are deemed "fun" and light, twisted into darkness and horror. Not always blood, but always horror.

Symbolism

I've already talked about this in tje screenshots so I'm gonna keep this short.

Especially taking the moment from Christopher Nolan's Batman Begins. The scene with the two ships.

What Batman and Joker, when they're shown together, represent is the goodness and evil in humanity.

The reason why Joker wins as much as he does is because of how humanity is. I believe that through Joker's character, the writers were sending a message. A message about how evil humans can be. And whenever Joker wins, it's always because of humanity's dark, twisted, horrifying, sick nature.

Whenever Batman wins though, it's always because of humanity's good, gentle, nurturing, protective, kind nature.

The scene with the two boats proves it. If humans had given in to their evil nature, Joker would have won. But no, humans chose goodness, and so Joker lost.

It's a message to us. We hate the Joker so much becaus eof the disgusting being he is, because he represents the dark parts of us. The impulsive twisted thoughts that sometimes enter your head. But we also have a goodness in us, a Batman that is born of the evil. Take a trauma survivor for example, they could either become a Joker and continue the cycle of abuse, or they can become a Batman and stop it (don't come at me for this example, you don't know me, you don't know my past, and this is a simple, mere harmless example). Fiction is an echo of reality but reality is also often an echo of fiction and hwavily influenced by it (take the example of the creator of Alexa or Siri or whoever building an AI because they saw it in Star Trek. Or Star Wars. Idk), so the tale of Batman and Joker encourages viewers to make the right choice and choose the goodness of humanity.

Much like how children's shows and movies have a moral, this also has a moral but for more mature audiences.

So to write a good Joker would be to make him completely dependent om the idea that humanity's dark side will always win out. To write a good Joker would be to make his wins related to the twisted nature of humanity and his losses related to the kindness of humanity. (In a way).

Robins

I've said a lot about this topic in the screenshots too, so there isn't much to add to this section.

But I will reference this one comic - Robin #85. And yes, comic writers suck etc etc, but I do like the theme of this issue. That Joker is smart.

Like- c'mon. He wins against Batman. Makes plans with failsafes and contingencies and stuff so he can get away. He is able to escape from jail multiple times (something which normal inmates of Arkham can't, the ones with powers can, but Joker doesn't have powers). He is smart. Intelligent. Conniving. How else is he able to manipulate Harley so badly and turn Tim into Joker Junior?

To write a good characterization of Joker would be to write him as smart and clecer, not dumb and overlooking. Everything he does has a purpose and if he has run out of moves, even then he makes plans on the fly to escape.

So, the issue also gives some insight to his thoughts on the Robins. He loves the Robins because they're such a "fun" and easy way to win against Batman. But at the same time, he hates the Robins because they distract Batman and he won't be able to get his back-and-forth with them present. Remember, his primary motivation is to rival Batman because he cannot function without his attention on him.

He was figuring out his relationship with Robin during Dick's time. He found a perfect way to get back at Batman while reverting things back to the way it used to be by killing Robin during Jason's time. Tim's time as Robin threw a wrench in his plans and surprised him immensely because he was not expecting that, but he had Batman's attention anyway because of the stunt with the last Robin. So even though he hated Tim's Robin because he wasn't expecting him, he didn't mind too much. I haven't read much about Damian encountering Joker and I know Steph's stint didn't include an encounter with him, but I'm sure he has the same love-hate relationship with them.

To write a good Joker would be to include his conflicting feelings about the sidekicks. I'd say he would try to get them out of the way somehow so he can have his time with Batman (yeah, he's a sick twisted fucker alright).

The Psychology

How his brain works.

In short: his brain only works when Batman is involved.

Imagine the most obssessed person you've ever met.

Joker is ten times more obsessed than that.

This man- monster eats solely for the reason to torment Batman. He breathes solely for Batman. He does everything he does for Batman. To oppose him.

Its the old battle of good vs evil. And Joker is hell-bent on proving that evil triumphs.

So all the things he has done, it's pure evil. Pure darkness. Pure gore and grotesqueness.

Here's the thing: goodness has limits. Evil doesn't.

So the things Joker does, peel off his face then wear it, skewer people like a butcher, cut forced smiles, create a gas that makes someone laugh and laugh until they die-

It's all to defeat the force of good that is Batman. That is all that's in his head. Batman. Batman Batman Batman.

He doesn't even want to kill Batman. I am 100% sure that if he does manage to, he has plans to off himself after he has shown Gotham city and the world that humans are evil no matter what they do.

So, personally, I am in full support of Batman's no killing rule. Yes, I do understand people who like Jason's anti-hero morals, and I have my own thoughts on why Bruce is so particilar about that (most of those thoughts are in the form of my Lazarus Pit Tim Drake AU which is still in the works). Because if Batman kills, especially the Joker, he turns all of that symbolism - all of that goodness that the people have learmed to trust - into evil.

And if that happens, what about Superman? An alien who has the powers to raze the planet? What about Flash? Wonder Woman? Martian Manhuntet?

If Batman - stoic, unshakeable Batman - can turn to the dark side. No one will trust superheroes ever again. No ond will trust safe people, the people seeking to protect them ever again.

When they say "Joker wins", it isn't just a philosophical idea. For the DC universe, for its citizens, the phrase "Joker wins" means that the entire world is plunged into darkness.

It's a painful burden for one man, and Joker is determined to break him.

The Unsurprising But Still Disappointing Misportrayal of Joker

AKA, the conclusion.

I hate how so many writers have thrown away the key aspect of Joker's characterization. I hate that they've molded and made him into this weird guy who wants to kill Jason Todd again or kill Tim. I hate that they made him into a simple killer. I hate that they took away his purpose and are only making him do shit for the sake of drama than the key message and significance of the ancient battle between Batman and Joker.

Batman and Joker are iconic for a reason. When you think of rivals, you think of Batman and Joker because their characters are such polar opposites in a way that effectivrly sums up the key message of humanity's polar opposites.

If you took what the comics and media are doing now - taking Joker and making him do shit like sing songs, kill people cuz he likes it, peel off his own face and wear it, give him a daughter, make him really "love" Harley, make him a little too focused on Harley (because Harley was always a tool to him, a tool to complete his mission with Batman, it's why she was so severely fucked in the head cuz of him), make him get revenge against OCs and nobodies which aren't related to Batman in any way - and all the other stupid shit. If you took all that, and just that. And tried to make that rivalry as iconic. It wouldn't work.

If Batman and Joker didn't have such a clear, established fame as enemies in the world of media and comic books, if their rivalry wasn't so famous. Then the rivalry between Batman and Joker we have now would fade and dissipate. It would be nowhere near as iconic and well-known as it is.

Another thing about Joker is the Batman Beyond movie where Tim gets turned into Joker Junior. The writers mentioned the reason they created Joker as they did.

They wanted to make a cruel, jarring image for Joker but since they were a sort of kids' animation studio, they weren't allowed to do gory stuff or stuff like murder a child. But they still wanted something Utterly Messed Up for Joker to do to Tim in order to get back at Batman.

And so came the idea of the smile.

The creepy iconic Joker smile and laugh we know. They messed up the smile and laugh as much as they were allowed to so they could still show the crazy, messed up side of Joker. And I agree, a smile like that during completely inappropriate times is jarring.

Anyways, in conclusion:

If you want a good Joker character in you story, you have to remember that Joker, despite how messed up he is, is not some weird monster. His actions make him so, but really, the fact is that he's a man. And so, he has human emotions. He is smart, conniving. He feels happiness, he feels sadness, he feels anger, he feels tired, he feels pain just like any other human. Completely detaching Joker from his humanity tears his character because his character represents a part of humanity. How can we show human nature without a human present?

~~~~~~~

I love analyzing characterizations and plot and literary devices and stuff, and I love pulling my own interpretations of things, and I usually go in depth a lot of the time.

But the fact is, this is just my interpretation. It's how I choose to see and write a character. To be clear, I'm not ordering anyone to subscribe to this train of thought, I'm putting my train out there for people to have an option and see if they like it. You can interpret it all however you wish! You can change your character however you wish! No one can truly write a completely canon character because each writer is different and has gone through different things.

I like making all my characters human, even the monsters. But that doesn't mean everyone else likes seeing it that way.

And if you did like this train of thought, and you used it for something, I would bery much appreciate a tag linking me so I can see it and enjoy it and discuss it with you!

Whew, that was long. Happy writing!

Do you have any tips on writing Joker? I despise him but he’s a useful villain to make everyone’s life harder

I need some tips too. I’m about to start writing the ASOH sequel which will heavily feature Joker and I’m desperately trying to psych myself up haha.

He’s a very useful villain like you said, he’s into chaos and making things awful for other people, in ways that are unpredictable even to him. He’s a hedonist of sorts, in my mind.

I think despising him helps when writing him. The disgust helps me at least — that’s how I write Homelander. Gritting my teeth the whole time.

[detectivestucks2]

Escape with the Cursed King VIII

18+ content, Minors DO NOT interact

Pairing: Sukuna x F!Reader

Summary: Sukuna takes you out to help him handle business with the various hords of curses around the country. Your powers continue to grow which impresses Sukuna and feeds his feelings toward you. After your most recent battle you make a realization and Sukuna decides to take an important step with you.

Warnings: NSFW, choking, belt-play, violence, fingering, oral, unprotected penetration, cream pie.

Word Count: 5.8k

Art Credit: @akirasukuna

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5 I Chapter 6 I Chapter 7

“Submit to me or prepare to die” Sukuna warns. 

Piles of small, low grade curses litter the ground. Some are still smoking from Sukuna’s flames, some lay pinned to the ground by the needles and daggers you created with your technique.

Based on the number of bodies strewn over the cold pavement, you’d think that there was a full-out war waged on the streets of this small city however, the opposing team only had two men, you and Lord Sukuna.

Recently in these confrontations, Sukuna made you do all the work, throwing in one or two well-timed assaults to flex his power before stepping back and admiring how beautiful you look in the midst of battle. He was proud of you and your strength. A talented and beautiful special-grade sorcerer, all to himself. 

The culprit of commotion this time is the humanoid creature before you, with three ponytails running down the center of its skull and an unnerving pair of black eyes contrasting its ivory-pale hide. 

“Unlikely”a demonic voice rings back in response to Sukuna’s demand.

A challenge to Lord Sukuna? Are they dumb? A stupidly hot smile twisted your king’s features before his eyes glanced sideways at you. 

“I’d recommend bending the knee before I have this one force you to.” He says tilting his head towards you. 

“What’s a puny human going to do to me? Surely you mock me by threatening me with your plaything. I may just take her as my own to spite you for your mockery.”

“Ha!” Sukuna’s voice becomes a deep rumble as he spits back at the curse with the very same word, growling in a low tone, “Unlikely.”

You launch towards the curse, a dead sprint set for him, to touch him and gain control. Your powers have continued to grow these past months. Once you had to touch their foreheads to manipulate a curse’s actions. Then it was anywhere on their head that did the trick. Now you simply have to graze anywhere on their skin in order for your ability to take effect. 

Sukuna always works you hard. Training you the way he promised. Sometimes he captures curses and brings them back to the estate for you to train, even after you have just won a battle. There is little time for rest when your King has a goal and however gruesome his methods are, you can’t deny the results. You have become a force to reckon with for sure. Your cursed daggers have grown in size, weight, and sharpness. Their remnants last for weeks. 

As you hurtle towards the sickening demon before you, you sharply inhale, pulling Sukuna’s strong cursed energy into you and blow out three large daggers that pierce the air, racing towards your target. He summersaults away and allows his hands to melt into fists of fire. He hurls a ball of flames in your direction before you jump out of the way. 

A vein in Sukuna’s skull bulges but he keep his composure, knowing you can handle this. “If you think hurting her is going to change anything, you would be sorely mistaken.” he taunts as his eyes flick back to you, watching as you realign your efforts.

All you need is one touch. One touch to lay your mark and then Sukuna’s will is forced upon him. 

You suck more cursed energy between your teeth and spit out a long katana-like sword into your hand. You twirl it in your palm before wrapping your fingers tightly around the handle. Reeling back your elbow, you fling the blade at the curse and severely wound his lower extremities. Successfully slowing his speed with your strike, you bound up to him and grab him by the hand, giving a playful wink as you work your magic. One knee touches the ground, followed by the other, along with his forehead in a compelled bow. Confusion knit his brows together as he bent down. 

“You see, she has the ability to control cursed beings with her technique. It’s quite useful in reigning in rouge pawns such as yourself.”

“I am not a pawn! Let me go!”

“I don’t think so. What do you you think, Princess?”

“After his earlier threat, I think not.”

���See, even she’d rather keep you in her grip than let you loose.”

You could see the pale skin of the creature darken as inky black blood pooled under his husk in frustration. He was trying to fight his own body, surely wondering how long he’d be stuck in this compromising position.

 It was Sukuna who had the thought to test how long your power could work. You only knew that you could control the curses. You never bothered to see if it was temporary or permanent because you always exorcized them right away. It was Sukuna’s twisted idea to bring opponents back to the estate and check how long they stayed under your influence. Originally the effects of your technique lasted several hours, impressive for a regular battle but Sukuna wanted you to have the ability to control them for years so that he could use you to gain long term cooperation with the curses of the country.

 You knew he had selfish reasons for training you but you couldn’t help the swell of pride you felt at becoming his right hand in battle. He trusted you, which is saying a great deal since a man with so many enemies rarely trusts anyone. You would never betray him. You knew what others thought and said about him. You knew his past. But you knew that you could never let someone else harm him. He was yours. 

Though still small compared to his usual state, you watch the evil grin split his face as he marches up to the folded curse as if he were larger than life. One shoe firmly on the gravel, the other pressing it’s sole into the back of the curse’s head, he pushed down, an enraged hiss of pain coming from the demon.

“Defy my order again and you’ll be dead. Next time I won’t have her deal with you. It’ll be me that puts you out of your misery…permanently.”

Another thrust of his weight is shoved against the back of the creature’s head as he punctuates his sentance and you see a puddle of blood oozing on the ground. Sukuna’s face is full of disgust but as he looks up towards you it softens. “Ready to go home?”

You smile wide and nod, threading your arm through the elbow he extends to you. The both of you turn towards the mountain and stride over the corpses of the deceased minions scattered all over the vacant street. 

Returning home,  an uncontrollable wave of need crashed over you. A singular doe-eyed look his way and a knowing smile spread his lips. 

Placing one hand on the small of your back, he pulls you into him. His free hand catches the back of your head, crashing your lips together in a heated kiss. 

Something about the thrill of battle planted seeds of desire in your core that couldn’t be stopped. The two of you stagger towards his chambers, unwilling to separate for even a breath. The staff roaming the halls ducked into nearby rooms, avoiding any disastrous disruptions to your passion that could result in their end. 

Blood peppered over your skin and clothes, lingering adrenaline pumping through your veins, you ride the high together. 

The crash of his door opening left you stumbling to the bed where your bodies fall on top of one another. 

Quickly the fabric of your battle clothes is torn away with only a small squeak of discomfort passing your lips. 

“Come here baby” he beckons as he stands up and signals for you to swallow him. 

Needy coos seep past your throat while you wrap your lips around his tip and rhythmically take him deeper and deeper. 

Your tongue points and strokes along the underside of his shaft as you pull back before it dips into the salty fluid weeping from his tip. His hips mindlessly push forward with each downward thrust of your head, bobbing back and forth before he spins you around and pushes you down on the mattress. With your head laying off the side of the bed slightly, he can sink himself in your throat with ease. 

You gladly take him like the proper slut you’ve become for this man. Everything he gives you, you take, never wanting to disappoint him. Every limit he pushes, you work until you’re unconscious. (Which has happened often these past few months.) You’ll do anything to feel the enormous pleasure he provides and that’s why when he stuffs your mouth, you open wide and loosen the back of your throat, letting him fuck you till he decides it’s time for air. 

When Sukuna pulls out, he sees how red your chest is and how heavy you pull air into your lungs. 

“Such a good girl f’me. She deserves a reward.” Sukuna climbs on the bed, hovering over your naked silhouette. Your legs, which had been rubbing together in an attempt to relieve the tension between them, are pried apart. His lips lock over your clit before he suckles, stimulating the nerve bundle and sending sparks throughout your body. 

You gasp below him, kicking your legs, your hands grappling at his hamstrings. “Kuna” you gasp as he pulls back till the suction is broken. 

“Open that pretty little mouth”

You feel him prod at your face before you open wide and let him stroke into your windpipe once more while his head drops back down to feast on your center. Animalistic grunts permeate the air as his tongue winds around your engorged nub. You jerk and twist, unable to handle the sensitivity. But with each movement Sukuna slams into your throat in protest of your insolence. 

Back arching, hands clawing, mouth drooling, desire has torn through you and possessed your body. His hips thrust in and out of your mouth openly, freely fucking your face as you slip out of consciousness.

Torn back to the present by two fingers stuffing themselves into your tiny slit, all in tempo with the strokes of his tongue. His hips still their movement as he anxiously digs into you with his fingers and tongue before getting frustrated with the angle and flipping you on your back so your hips lined up with his. 

His fingers thrust into your cavern, stroking quickly and making you clench. Your entire core tightened as you clamped down around his digits. He shoved a third one in. Three thick digits curling up and stroking your g-spot causing you to whimper in pleasure. Your hand shot to his free arm, clasping him tight in your grasp. 

“Does she like that?”

“Yes”

“Look how wet she is, such a good girl gushing for her king.”

You bite your lip and look up at him in agreement. 

“Gotta prep your little pussy, Princess. Make her nice and loose so she can take me. I’ll have you all stretched out and ready for your future husband like the good little whore you are.”

Through clouded vision and mind numbing pleasure, you are pulled out of your bliss by his words.

“Wait, what?” It came out breathless and soft

“Shh, Princess. Don’t you worry, I’ll still leave you in one piece.”

“No” you breathe, “What do you mean my future husband?”

Sukuna slots himself between your legs, shoving his member deep inside and you feel the satisfaction of such fullness well up inside of you. But there’s no time for that now, you need answers, so you lightly put your hand on his stomach signaling him to stop.

“I’m serious Sukuna, what do you mean by my future husband?”

Annoyed that you would address him so informally, like a peer, Sukuna gives one last harsh thrust before stopping. 

“What are you talking about? Isn’t that what you humans do? Grow up and get married?”

“We do, but I thought I’m yours?”

“Yeah, for now.”

“For now?”

“What did you expect? Concubines don't live with their masters forever. They are dismissed and free to live their own lives after their duties have been fulfilled."

“I-” you are at a loss for words. You didn’t realize this is how he viewed you. He saved you; he trained you. Yet sex was all you were good for. You thought you were different. Had you been so naive to think that you were special? Had you been merely a toy to him this entire time?

“I guess I didn’t realize I was only a concubine to you.”

You withdraw from him and scooch all the way back to the headboard, tucking your knees into your chest. You look down at the rumpled sheets feeling a weight center in your sternum. 

Sukuna couldn't help the sorrow that took hold of him seeing you so hurt. He had never considered the fact that your relationship was more than a concubine and her master. Other such relationships are foreign to him. Never did he consider the fact that he had unknowingly entered something more…real. 

"My lamb, I'm sorry.” He takes a large inhale, carefully considering his words. “You're right. You're not simply a concubine; you’re more than that."

"But you still plan on sending me away."

"Don't you want to eventually leave and start a family of your own?"

Your glassy orbs finally look up to meet his and he can see from the pain on your face that he is very wrong. How could you care for a hateful monster such as him? And as much as he hated to see you upset, a warmth spread along his body. It was a sensation he had only experienced a few times and each of those times was around you. He realized in his long existence that no one else brought out these feelings other than you. No one would ever compare to you. No one ever has. Which caused him to blurt out his next words:

"Marry me."

"What?"

"Be my wife."

"Be your...but only a moment ago you were going to send me away when my ‘duties were fulfilled’."

Sukuna smiles and shakes his head. "No my lamb, you are right. You are not merely a concubine. You are very important to me."

You watch as he adjusts himself and kneels down next to the bed, by your side. 

"I want you to be my queen."

You lost your ability to speak. You just look at him in disbelief of what he is saying. "Sukuna, are you being serious?"

"When have you known me to be anything but serious?"

It was a fair point. Sarcasm and humor were never his strong suit. 

"Okay." You whisper to him still shocked by his proposal. 

"Try again. I need a proper answer."

"Yes, I will marry you."

A light kiss graces your cheek before two heavy hands push you down on the mattress. "Good, then it is decided. Now prepare the buttcheeks!”

You all out laugh at Sukuna’s attempt at humor, grabbing him by the base of his neck and pulling him down on top of you. His playful smile turns to one of pure mischief;a sign that things are about to get wild. 

Darkness blankets the earth early these days and you watch as the inviting pink sky fades into a black sparkling display. You gaze out the window in the dining hall when one of the staff approaches from behind. 

"Madam, it seems Lord Sukuna is running behind. Would you like to take a stroll in the west garden while you wait?"

"That sounds nice, do you know how long he will be?"

"I do not, but my wife will come get you when he arrives."

"Thank you Kazuo, I appreciate it."

The opaque sky with its glittering lights pulls you forward as you lightly push open the glass door, anxious to count the constellations. You wander the familiar trail, unaware of your mouth slowly falling agape.

"Hello, Little Lamb."

You jump, hand flying to your chest, slightly startled by the warm deep voice that greets you.

"Sukuna! You scared me!"

"I'm sorry baby, I didn't mean to frighten you."

"I thought you were running late."

"I was, I got lost in thought, here in the gardens."

His large palm finds purchase on your hip as his arm gently circles your back. He guides you down the trail and you see a warm glow around the corner.

"Join me, would you?"

He motions for you to walk before him. A table for two is set up in the center of the stone walkway. Short white candles are spread on the ground surrounding the table. Flames flickering as they dance in the soft breeze. A lantern is placed in the center of the table, illuminating plates of food freshly prepared. It was all a ploy to create a romantic evening just for the two of you. 

"This was your doing I assume"

A close lipped smile stretches Sukuna's features as he pulls out your chair. 

"Thank you, my Lord"

Sukuna takes a seat across from you and places the folded napkin in his lap.

"I've been thinking since last night. I believe it is time for me to switch vessels."

You drop your fork in surprise. "But I thought you didn't-"

"I changed my mind."

Though the words never left your lips, you face conveyed your question perfectly.

"It doesn't seem right to keep a vessel if it makes you uncomfortable. Plus I want you to have another friend around when I am away."

Sukuna looks off to the side as if to regain his pride after having conceded to a puny human. 

"That makes me very happy, my Lord. Thank you."

"I also believe that it is time to change how you address me. I no longer wish to have you call me by formal titles in private. I would like you to call me by my first name: Ryomen."

Sukuna's crimson eyes firmly set their gaze on you as his words sink in.

"Oh, okay." you stammer out feeling a bit dizzy by the honor he just bestowed upon you. 

After a few bites of his meal, Sukuna wipes his mouth and sets down the navy cloth on the table before pushing out his chair and standing up. You make to do the same, believing the meal has come to an end. Sukuna...Ryomen, rounds the table and stands before you, grabbing your hand in his. Your eyes lock where your hands meet and you watch as he lifts your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it.

"It's time I do this properly." Lowering down to one knee Ryomen pulls out an antique ring adorned with a blood red ruby and several small diamonds nesting around it. He looks up into your eyes as they well with tears, complementing the goosebumps that cover your arms and legs.

With one hand holding up the ring, the other grabs your left hand, "My angel, my lamb, my princess, will you do me the honor of standing by my side as my queen?" He punctuates his question with a soft kiss to the back of your hand while his crimson eyes look at you with a softness unnatural of such a domineering man. 

Your hands begin to shake. Your unsteady voice forces the word past your lips, "...yes"

All of Sukuna's sharp teeth glitter in the candlelight as the widest of smiles stretch across his face. He pulls you into a hug and whispers in your ear, "You have no idea how happy you just made me."

You hug him back with all your strength, your heart pounding with excitement. You don’t have long to bask in the glow before he sweeps you up and wraps your legs around his waist.

Lifting you with his immense strength, he pulls you panties to the side under your dress and rubs his fingers along your folds, dipping his fingertips past them and pulling out with a string of wetness trailing behind.

“Someone’s ready” he smirks into your ear.

Normally you’d be embarrassed but something about his teasing made you weak for him. Like you are sucked in and just a toy on a string. The heat in your core burned hot. His commitment to forge a life long bond consumed your hormones. You were no longer his; he was yours. And better yet, no one could take him away from you. He lived a dangerous life, but however dangerous his enemies may be, you know Sukuna is more dangerous still. 

The thrilling life you currently lead was born out of this romance. A fairytale full of twisted desire. 

Sukuna walked you towards a large statue and pushed your back up against it, propping you up as he undid the ties of his pants to pull out his member. It sprang out of the fabric constraints and your eyes couldn’t help but gaze down. Instantly drool sprang from under your tongue. So long, so thick, and throbbing to be inside of you. 

Your eyes pan back up to catch him staring at you with utmost satisfaction. As a self-centered man, nothing made him happier than being worshiped and adored; you happen to be captivating when you do both.

The fluid leaking from his tip was proof that you enthralled the man. He rubs his head up and down your center before pushing in. You gasp, the intrusion sending a ripple of goosebumps down your back and across your limbs. The small breath invigorates him. You can feel the rush of blood flow to his cock and your walls close around him tighter in response. 

Hips rolling up into yours, you are shoved up against the cool marble of the statue, moaning in your king’s ear as he drags his head in and out of your silken cavern. 

“Please Kuna, need you.”

“I need you too, Princess.” he coos, assuring you of your importance. 

He lets your legs down and spins you around, keeping your dress hiked above your hips. He bends you forward and lifts your hips to better angle himself as he reenters your middle. 

A pleasured cry rings from the garden and your new fiance is quick to slap a heavy palm over your pretty mouth to shush you as he slams into you from behind. Rhythmic claps join your muffled moans from the weight of his jewels slapping into your nub. Slowly you unraveled. Any composure that existed was ripped away by the sensation of his member shredding your insides and taking your sanity for ransom. 

A broken and high pitched “y-y-y-y-yes” is the only word that passes your lips while being railed by the Cursed King in all his enthusiasm. He rather enjoyed what this engagement has done to you.

The trust that had already existed between you only grew. He felt there were no boundaries he could push that you would object to. Testing this theory, he slips his belt out of his pants and threads it through the buckle before wrapping the loop around your neck. He yanks on the end, shrinking the space your neck now occupied and choking you so that your airway is substantially constricted. 

“Good job, baby.”

You gag and struggle but when he yanks on the end of the leather you obediently rest the weight of your upper body against it and allow the tension from the strip of hide in his hand to the section that wraps around your throat to block the passage of air to your brain and feel the tingle of oxygen deprivation roll over your body.

“That’s it baby, that’s it. Good girl.” he praises as you lose all sense and feel a gush of fluids spurt out of your entrance and run down your inner thigh. 

A growl vibrates the shell of your ear and you about lose all control. Sukuna releases the belt and grabs your elbows, yanking back on them and pounding up into you with such force that you quite literally bounce off his hips. The sight of your flesh rippling in waves upon each impact fuels his desires. He grabs you around the waist and lifts you, carrying you like a doll over to a bench to bend you over. 

“You wanna get fucked like a whore tonight, huh? I can do that”

You grunt in pleasure as you’re pinned over the back of the bench, your fingers curling around the edge of the seat for support. Your head falls forward and your stomach tightens, pleasure crashing over you and causing your legs to shake, but still he does not stop. Sukuna slams into you faster. His pace builds with each passing second. Quickly, you topple over again, body twisting in pleasurable agony. His speed increases till you scream from the third orgasm in a row, your entire body writhing in pleasurable anguish. 

“Please,” you call, legs shaking and clit twitching.

“No.” 

He grabs the base of your ponytail and drags you over to a grassy patch and pushes you down on the ground. Folding your body into a ball he sinks in, lifting his hips with each thrust, a piston plummeting in and out of your squishy walls. You felt your organs move with each stroke, he bullied them out of his way with his endowment and you squirm under him, unable to bare the intensity. 

Another pathetic plea his way is shut down. Lost in his feelings, he tore into you, hips thrusting faster and harder till you swear you have bruises on the bottoms of your cheeks. His hand clamps around your neck and pushes down as he uses the hand to support his own weight. 

 “Almost, baby, almost…” 

A series of euphoric grones break through the ringing in your ears. His thrusts slow but still punctuate each moan as hot ropes shoot out and fill you. When he’s done he collapses on top of you. Panting from one of the most intense releases of his existence. He loves you. He knows that. It scares the hell out of him but it won’t stop him from being with you. 

As if a switch flips in his personality, he goes from choking you to scooping you up gingerly in your arms. At the drop of a coin you suddenly become some breakable treasure that needs to be handled with expert care or you will be ruined. 

Cradling you as he walked from the garden, through the halls, and to his room, you felt yourself drift off. Only mildly aware of the warm bath and the change of clothes. You feel safe and don’t even register that he has redressed you, ties up your hair, and lays you in bed to rest. Your mind slips to the sweetest of dreams that reflects your current reality since it truly is the happiest situation your mind can invent. 

Sukuna slips under the covers next to you and holds your hand, feeling you leg twitch as you enter REM sleep. He kisses the back of your hand, his thumb grazing the ring before rolling on his back and drifting off himself. 

Normally in the morning you feel the warm spot on the sheets left behind after Sukuna Ryomen leaves the bed. Today, however, you roll over to find his toned body right where the vacant spot usually existed. A pair of strong arms greets you and pulls you into a well cut torso that your little hands press up against with all the greed in your loins. You feel a slight soreness between your legs and reminisce about the night prior, remembering the magical evening and feeling the underside of your new ring band with your thumb. 

You tuck your chin into his chest and feel him squeeze you tighter. To think someone like you will be the wife of someone like Sukuna. A terrifying monster somehow the kindest of men around you. You made him softer but never any less strong. Anyone who would confuse the two will have made a grave mistake. 

A light knock at the door pulls you out of your thoughts. An unfamiliar female attendant walks through the door. She bows her head as she walks toward you with a large tray loaded with food. You lift your head towards Ryomen who smiles. I figured you might not feel up to eating in the dining room since, yah know.” 

You giggle but notice the girl who brought your food seems displeased. You give her a quick glance that Sukuna doesn’t miss before thanking her and looking back over at him. A beaming expression paints your face. Your eyes linger on the tattoos adorning his face, especially the one across the bridge of his nose. 

“Like what you see?” 

You giggle once more. “Maybe. I like your tattoos.”

“Good, you’ll have to look at them for the rest of your life.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. You’ll also have to wear them.”

“I have to wear them?”

The back of his hand brushes your cheek, “It is part of the ceremony.”

“You’re bringing a tattoo artist to our wedding ceremony?”

“These tattoos are not your typical tattoos. They are the physical markings of cursed energy.”

“You’re cursing me on our wedding day?! Naughty Ryo.”

A deep chortle rumbles from his bulky chest. “Our wedding ceremony will also consist of a binding ceremony. You will be bound to me. Your veins will carry my cursed energy.”

“So I carry you. Do you carry any of me? Or am I the only one being bound here?”

A satisfied smile splits Ryomen’s face. “So the human thinks she can bind the king of curses, does she?”

“It’s only fair!”

His laugh cracks through the air, bouncing off every corner of the room before it subsides. He looks down on you with amusement, “Little lamb, yes, the binding ceremony works both ways. You are bound to me, and I am bound to you. The difference is that my power will make your binding stronger, and since I was once a human, I will not feel the effects of your binding the way you will with my cursed energy.”

“Will I also be bound to Yuuji?”

“That is why I need a new vessel. Once the binding is complete, my vessel will be lost to me.”

You look down feeling sadness for whomever the poor soul is. Quickly, a large and warm finger tucks under your chin, lifting it. “That is why we are looking for a volunteer, is it not?”

“Right.” your eyes cast to the side in thought. “So does that mean our wedding date hinges on when you find your new vessel.”

“It does…”

You push the tray of food out of your way and rise up to you knees. “Then we better get started.”

“What’s the rush little one?”

“No rush, I’m just excited.”

“What for?”

“It’s our wedding. Does there need to be more of a reason?”

Once more amused by you he chuckles out, “I suppose not.”

“Then it’s decided. I’m going to check online for Sukuna fan clubs and also scout out some dresses.”

“Oh? Don’t you think something more traditional would be nice?”

“Maybe, but I also feel like a cursed wedding might warrant a little more pizazz.”

“You are truly one of a kind.” he breathes out while leaning in to kiss your forehead. 

He had become so tender with you these past two days. It is as if his decision to marry you had put you on a completely different plain. 

“Don’t forget that I still intend on continuing your training, even if you’re planning a wedding. …however… I will not be taking you out with me anymore. Not till after the binding. I’m not willing to take the risk.” Sukuna stands up and heads towards the door, leaving to get ready for the day.  

You call after him, “I’m not weak, you know.” Sukuna pauses with his hand on the open door, “I know, but you are weak compared to how strong you’re about to become.” He then passes through the threshold and leaves you to get dressed.

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5 I Chapter 6 I Chapter 7

[backmuscles21]

Providing

Tsu'tey x Reader

Summary: Just some fluff about Tsu'tey being a good mate while still being rude to everyone else.

Tsu’tey called himself a provider, he was a provider of many things to many people. He provided for his clan, his family, and his home but he’d never provide for anyone more than you. He prided himself on being the best mate ever and being able to protect you and provide for you. You would tell him constantly that he was the best mate anyone could ask for, it only served to inflate his ego further.

However, one thing Tsu’tey hated, you were so different from him and not just because you were a girl but because you were human still. Now you did have an avatar, you have mated with him before Eywa, but you did want to wait before fully transferring over your consciousness completely. You and Norm enjoyed getting to have a human side still. Tsu’tey hated it, he hated that when you fell asleep you weren’t really there with him. Don’t get me wrong, caring for two bodies is a challenge and sometimes you do wish that you didn’t have to. Tsu’tey hated that sometimes you’d sleep in or something and he’d have to go to the sky people and see you. He also hated when you got sick or something and then you wouldn’t link in for a while, he hated not having you in your avatar body.

Like today, you stayed up really late doing some paperwork and science experiments with some plants and you may have gone to bed at like four in the morning. The Na’vi were early risers for the most part, so when you weren’t up at around nine, Tsu’tey came to you. He walked over to the scientists’ tents and metal home base with his usual scowl on his face. He hated being over here with the humans, he warmed up to the sky people once he got to know you and Jake but he still didn’t love being by a whole bunch of them.

He walked up to the metal door, crouched down to get inside and grabbed one of the breathing masks. He walked into the lab and saw some faces he recognized not that he cared about any of them.

“Hey Tsu’tey,” Norm said as he brought his fingers to his forehead to sign ‘I see you’ which Tsu’tey returned out of respect.

“I’m looking for my mate.”

“She’s in her room.”

Tsu’tey stayed quiet, he didn’t know where your room was or at least couldn’t remember.

“It’s at the back, first right. You’ll see her name on the door.”

Tsu’tey nodded as he headed to your room with the directions given to him. He saw your name on the door, after you showed him how to spell your name and what your name being written out in English looked like, and entered the room. Boy, you were a sight for sore eyes, you had kicked some of the sheets off your body in your sleep. Your arms were raised and your head rested on its side as you lay on your back. You looked so peaceful and so soft, Tsu’tey couldn’t help but smile and brush the back of a finger on your cheek.

You stirred lightly, Tsu’tey placed a hand on your exposed stomach, his hands were so warm. Since Pandora was so hot, you wore next to nothing to sleep, your short shorts and cropped tank top revealed a lot of skin. Tsu’tey wasn’t bothered by it, not to mention he liked to feel your soft and smooth skin. His large hand was the size of your torso, his hand splayed on your stomach dwarfing you compared to him.

He decided to kiss you awake, he kissed your forehead then your stomach. He felt your legs move and watched as your face contorted and you whined as you were being woken from your slumber. Your eyes opened slowly and you looked at the blue giant kneeling by your bed, you smiled at him and stretched. You move to sit up a little and kiss his cheek, he pulls you right off the bed and into his lap. He held you close to his large body and you snuggled into him.

“I missed you this morning.”

“Sorry, I was up late.”

“I told you not to do that.”

“But I was making good headway.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“I’m sorry Tsu’tey, how could I ever make it up to you.”

“Be with me forever.”

“I already am.”

He kissed your cheek and you giggled slightly, he kissed you a few more times as you giggled and squirmed in his hold. His large hands held onto your tiny body as you held onto his much larger and longer arms.

You finally decided to get up out of bed, you stretched and grabbed your water bottle by your bed. You drank the little bit left inside before the sound of you sucking in air through the straw could be heard. You went to leave your room to get more water for your water bottle before Tsu’tey wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Where are you going?”

“Just to get more water.”

“I’ll get it for you.”

“It’s fine Tsu’tey, really.”

“I am your mate and I can provide for you.”

“Do you even know where the water cooler is?”

“I can find it.”

“Well, all the power to you then,” you hand him your water bottle and sit on your bed as he leaves, you knew there was no fighting with him on it.

He leaves your room and walks to where all the scientists are.

“You,” Tsu’tey points at Norm, “where do I find the water to fill this?” Tsu’tey showed him your water bottle he held.

“I can fill it up for you.”

“No, I can fill it myself for my mate.”

“It would probably be easier if I-“

“Just show me where it is.”

“It’s back down the same hallway as the bedrooms, but it will be the room without a door. You see the jug with the water in it. Just push the little handle down.” Tsu’tey didn’t entirely understand but he was nothing if not a good mate.

Tsu’tey went and searched for the contraption the human talked about, once he found what he presumed was the machine, he kneeled down and his large hand held your water bottle and his single finger pushed down on the lever. He felt so silly for doing things this way when he could go out and forge you fresh water with no problem.

He felt too big for this place and really, he was, it was made for at best a six-foot frame, he was like quadruple that. He went back to your room and handed you your water bottle, you had sat up on your bed and Tsu’tey sat on the floor in front of you. You smiled at him and took a big drink.

“Thank you.”

“Anything for my mate.”

[puppyeared]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[mudstoneabyss]

actually. the specific phrasing that boy Kevin wants to kill older Kevin with "I must disassemble him, piece by piece, so that everything inside of the Old Kevin comes out. Only then can the New Kevin truly begin." is so incredibly the idea that to heal from trauma and "improve" you have to destroy every "wrong" part of yourself, that everything "tainted" by it has to somehow be replaced by something untouched (which isn't possible)

[fruitsofhell]

How will humanity survive without more beautifully self-absorbed campy stories with the most absurd but stylish plots and character imaginable whose only coherent themes are hatred of the government and friendship,,,,

[nerdie-faerie]

Just when I think the day's going well, I crash a golf cart

[whiskeyswifty]

Kelsey I hope you know that I saw the cover and thought of you 😂 was excited for your reaction!

lmaoooooo tysm you know me. she saw my blog become a thirst blog and said "if kelsey liked the bra and skirt at piano photo from the midnights shoot, lets give her something that will actually kill her this time." and well!!!!! HELLOOOOOOOO!!!! cannot wait for the rest of the photos and the vibe feels like she's swinging a liiiiiiitle back into the singer/songwriter direction. it feels very 90s/early 2000s in that way. i'm LIVING

[virmillion]

local idiot reads book titled 'icarus,' is shocked when it contains references to falling and the sun, more at eleven

[mejomonster]

I finished final fantasy vii rebirth and. Some mixed opinions.

The main good points: as a Sequel to original FF7? Its good. The women are all written well (which was a concern considering Kairi and Lunafreya in past games), and everyone was in character just fleshed out more (with 2 slight exceptions). What the game did best was accomplish an open world game, world spanning adventure, stick fairly well to some main highlights from original ff7 (which is what people wanted for ages) and with new stuff thats fun if you like the world, very little wasting of player time (so much better than ff7 remake). It did open world well, pacing well, side quests and mini games well, characters well, combat well, and overall gave the feel of what square enix was maybe Hoping and Wishing to successfully accomplish in a mainline game for years but either hasnt been able to achieve on a technical level or fumbled in the past. (So no time wasting dungeons like ff7 remake, fleshed out open world with stuff you enjoy doing so more than ff15, open world so more than ff13, and combat that feels like things theyve learned and improved on well). How it feels to play? Great, fast paced, no dead time, all enjoyable game you came to play. (With the exception maybe of Cait Siths box mandatory mini game and the aerith in ancient temple magic platforms thing but they both werent too difficult to push through if you dont enjoy them).

The bad? Mostly... if you treat Rebirth as a SEQUEL to original ff7, these arent major issues. They just annoy me as a player of the original ff7 game. Because i know plenty of people will ONLY play ff7 Remake and Rebirth etc, and never know the original characterizations. So 2 characters were slightly unlike their original ff7 selves, and instead more like their Advent Children (and general non ff7 appearances) selves: aerith and sephiroth. Sephiroth's character being NOT like ff7 originals is more irritating personally. Because yeah... i get it. As a sequel to original ff7, this Remake/Rebirth Sephiroth might be from the future (so he is Advent Children esque version of himself), hes had time post losing his way to really get all mysterious and hyperfocus on cloud and be a looming vague pest. But the thing is... in the original ff7 the reason we learn hes used to be a SOLDIER war hero, is so the cast and you are confused why he kills Shinra people. Then you and the casy figure: well cloud remembers sephiroth finding out hes a monster cause of shinra, justifiable for sephiroth to hate shinra. Unflrtunately Sephiroth also decided to hate ALL HUMANS. Then you later find out maybe Jenovas controlling Sephiroth/one with him etc. But the key here is you find out at some point in original ff7 that sephiroths goal is mainly Destroy World because Hes not Human. Rebirth... does not clarify this very important and very BASIC point ever. Maybe it assumes its so basic that as a ff7 fan you should know.. but plenty of new players wont. Rebirth clarifies yes sephiroth may be Jenovas kid... but the whole MOM, im an ancient like Jenova! Oh Jenova isnt an ancient oh well fuck humans anyway! Either way fuck humans ill kill them all! None of those Very basic sephiroth motives are clarified much. I felt Rebirth did good explaining the Gi and the black materia. But to make Sephiroths motives so vague, why he wants to end the world SO VAGUE, why hes in clouds head (the black robes are everywhere but the game HINTS theure sephiroth clones but never actually spells it out eevn though its a BASIC KEY DETAIL). Now... because Rebirth is a sequel, it makes sense... if hes Advent Children Sephiroth he already knows he isnt an ancient, knows hes Jenovas kid, knows he wants to fuck with Cloud specifically now and the world generally but not necessarily so singlemindedly desperate to just kill all humans. So yes, Sephiroth is in character for his future self... but i feel like even with him less SINGLE MINDED and freshly with Jenova, clarifying some basics of his Original old timeline motives... would be helpful to new fans. So it annoyed me. I think the biggest Not Good writing decision in Rebirth was to never fucking clarify Sephiroths original basic goal: im not human like mom, hate humans, kill world. I suspect the writers either thought players KNEW so hinted instead of being on the nose (but to new players theyll just be CONFUSED), or they plan to explain those basic things in game 3. Which seems stupid to me and shouldve been explained earlier.

And Aerith. As a sequel? She remembered the other timeline which explained some moments she was calmer than original ff7. She forgot, then toward the end of Rebirth she seems to have remembered the other timeline again and that she needs to die and X happens etc. So her being calmer based on the plot they wrote for Rebirth? Makes sense. However... i deeply miss her Original FF7 personality where as an Ancient she freaks out a bit LIKE sephiroth, paralleling him, that shes not human, a freak, that it all rests on her as only one ancient left. Their overwhelm parallels each other. Aerith is more scared in original ff7 of being the only ancient, of what it means, of finding out more. That fear is slightly there in Rebirth but WAY LESS. its only a little in cosmo canyon and almost gone in the Ancient Temple. In ff7 expanded universe theyve changed her character over time to a calmer wiser goddess type like in Advent Children, and so yes in Rebirth when she remembers the alrernate timeline it makes sense she'd be calmer like her future self. However... i miss original ff7 aerith. I miss her initial shock, loneliness, fear of the weight on her shoulders, not being sure what to do. Her and Sephiroth, because of Rebirth writing them to know more, act more like their future selves and so. While it is in character and logical to the Rebirth plot. Its also sad to me that anyone who only plays Remake and Rebirth simply wont see what they were like WHEN these revelations were brand new shocks to them, forcing them to react and grow and fear. I dont think Aerith is written bad, i just think because this game is in reality is a Sequel im just personally mourning that it didnt have that as much of the original Aerith's personality who was afraid and discovering. Mostly her Rebirth personality is similar to original ff7s. But in some high tension moments shes way calmer and wiser than in the original. I miss getting to see some of that before to after character growth.

Oh and. The aerith dies scene. Does it make sense in context of Rebirth written as a sequel? Sure. Is it impactful? Not as much as the original. In Rebirth, theres a scene where Cloud is losing control and listening to Sephiroth and attacks Tifa, causing Tifa to fall into mako. That scene is high stakes and emotional and lands WELL. Later in Rebirth, when Aerith actually dies, Cloud has not lost control and isnt the one who killed her. Its fine, as a sequel to ff7 i get the choice to make him able to stop himself from hurting her. But it does make the scene less impactful: now cloud will NOT be blaming himself for her death, will not be struggling with the guilt and fear, and will not be as terrified of losing control again. Since he wasnt the one who attacked her. And since he saw her ghost/something post death, hes not even sad or grieving her. He thinks shes fine. These 2 things will result in a WILDLY DIFFERENT cloud moving forward than the original ff7 one who very much was distraught and horrified he did that. So like... as a sequel its fine these changes were made. But death wise... i wouldve prefered like, cloud drops her from up high qhile struggling with whispers, or doesnt get to her in time and sephiroth stabs her when shes too far away. The way Rebirth did it, cloud was near her, she gets stabbed anyway. It seemed to me almost like the writing was trying to vaguely or softly kill her, like somehow making it vague would make it hurt less. Yeah it did hurt less... but id rather if a character i love dies that its a Worthy Scene for them to die in. A strong meaningful scene that makes me cry, that felt like the loss it is. The Rebirth scene... couldve done its plot as intended and just make Cloud farther away or something and it wouldve been better to me. Maybe the writing point was Cloud thinks its fine, and its still not, and he cant even feel distaught because he cant tell if she died or if things are fine? Thats the only angle i can see where maybe the death scene did what the writers wanted? Anyway. Aeriths moms death made me sob, Aeriths death did not. It is what it is. I feel like Tifa, crying in my heart off screen, the game acting like Cloud like its fine and it looks fine to him but im confused like Tifa aa to why hes (the game) treating it that way. Lol.

Overall? Um 4/5. 8/10? Really solid square enix game, Amazing as far as final fantasy 7 SEQUELS go. It has one main weak spot in treating Sephiroth fully mysterious when a few clarifying details could help the game stand on its own Better (and make Sephiroth a stronger enemy character instead of a vaguer one). The other weak spots are more my personal preference and mourning the parts of ff7 original i miss and had wished were in this, but as this is a Sequel in a parallel timeline i dont feel the parts effect Rebirth on its own merit. It IS the best Square Enix game ive played in ages, at least since Final Fantasy X or XII. I thought it was better than FF13, FF15, definitely better than ff7 remake (i hate time wasting dungeons and bad pacing its a dealbreaker), and than kh3 (although kh3 was quite good for a kh sequel). I get to play FF16 next, which will hopefully be as good as Rebirth or better! Since its also on the PS5 and clearly from Rebirth, the square enix main team can do excellent combat, open world, level design, mini games, side quests, and good pacing now. So i'll just have to see if ff16's story is better. And i am guessing it hopefully will be, since Rebirth as an ff7 sequel has some weirdness to its plot quite typical of ff7 extended universe stories like Crisis Core and Dirge of Cerberus. Whereas ff16 is a brand new plot, so they have nothing preventing them from a tight excellent written story except themselves. I am curious how BIG ff16s world will be though. Because ff7 Rebirths world was MASSIVE and very full of stuff, tons of mini games, cool stuff to find or do or little character side quests. If ff16 also takes me 60 hours to beat the main story its gonna be thw longest final fantasy main title ive ever played.

Rebirth is very replayable if you enjoyed it. I will probably replay ff7 original soon.

[autumnoakes]

i'm lowkey excited for the next 3D zelda game because i want to see where they go AFTER botw. will they keep some elements of the open world? will they include aspects of environmental storytelling? what will they do? i'm excited to see it

[phagodyke]

ugh had to get up bc I'm too awake to fall back asleep and started getting hunger cramps

[emotargaryen]

have to run errands and id lowkey rather DIE bc none of the places i need to go are next to each other and i hate being out in public around here