#damn i was doomed from the beginning huh

[ram-bles]

I absolutely adore how you write the whole gang 🥹 May I request more scenarios with them, please? I miss your angst. Would doomed love be alright? Thank you so much

Tulpar crew x reader || Ma Meilleure Ennemie

oh lord this took so long. these are so ooc I'm so sorry in advance. I'll just use Grant as Curly's first name for now.

#: gender neutral reader. angst. not proof-read.

⚠️ character deaths. gore. mouthwashing spoilers. yk, #justjimmythings 💖. toxic relationships.

[I was honestly worried I've written them too ooc 💧 thank you so much anon I'm glad you enjoy my ramblings!]

[ Anya ]

🟦 "I love you, I'm leaving you." ⬛

The night before, she'd confessed to you. You had a long heart to heart conversation with the nurse. Told you everything; Why her financial situation was in the gutter, academic issues, Pony express, Jimmy. After you'd attempted to comfort her, you told her yours once she insisted that she was fine hearing everything. Eventually, you both ended up with something more lighthearted. Hobbies, favorite music, hell, even favorite Pokemon/s. So, when Daisuke came rushing to both you and Jimmy the next day, cutting off the dry conversation, your heart sank. The two men tried to talk her out of the medical room, slamming and tugging on the door which made you flinch and your fingers felt numb. Did Anya feel the same? You had to bite your tongue at Jimmy's words, Anya told you to after all. It's best not to provoke him when we're trapped here. I can't keep watching you be treated like this, Anya. Especially not after knowing what he did to you. And I don't want him to hurt you either. Please. If not for me, for Daisuke and Swansea too. Quickly dismissing the 'Captain', Anya called your name. You loved it when she did. Your heart guiltily flutters and shatters at the same time. "Are you there?" "Y-Yeah." You stammered, the two looking back at you as you moved closer to the door. "Yes. I'm here, Anya. Please. Please, open the door." Anya smiles. He doesn't want Jimmy's voice to be the last she'll hear. "Open the damn door." "You were right." Her tone resigned. You can hear her take a deep breath. "You were right all along. I should have done this from the beginning. I always believed that our worst moments didn't define us. Didn't make us beyond repair." It was silent for a moment, her voice much softer. She probably moved away from the door. "You think I wanted this either? Make no mistake. This isn't my worst moment. Far from it." "It's the best decision I'll ever make." "Anya, please." "Open the door." "I'll take care of it." "Anya?!" Daisuke bangs on the door. "Please. Don't leave me, Anya." Your voice cracks as you call out for her in desperation, hand clutching onto Daisuke's shirt as an attempt to ground yourself. There were so many options in your head that you didn't know what to do. You were frozen. The panic worsens when Anya calls for your name again. "I'm sorry. I love you."

[ Curly ]

🎂 The best of all curses. 👁️

Your hands were shaky, clinging onto the bandaged man. It probably hurt him, but it kept you grounded. How selfish. Everyone else was dead, you knew you were next and so did he. And all he could do was make noises as if you could understand. It was supposed to be strings of I'm sorries but only vowels spilled along with tears. You fidget with the ring on your finger, a symbol of a promise never came true. You don't even know if his survived somewhere. Was it stuck in the foam along with his severed arm? Was it even still there. "We never decided whose last name to use, huh." You chuckle, hand still on his chest as you feel for his heartbeat. "Can this be our wedding instead?" Your veil being the hair that stuck to your face, clinging onto blood and sweat. He makes a noise, and you consider that as a yes. "Grant █████, I do. I still do." And you sob, carefully holding his chin and kissing the bandage just over his cheek. The ceremony cut to a halt when he starts writhing as he notices another presence. Jimmy had thought you were going to hurt him, too panicked to even think properly, the air being thin doesn't help either. The captain drags you off out of sight, the former unable to do anything.

[ Jimmy ]

♦️ The worst of all blessings. 🔪

The axe dragged on the floor, metal meeting metal as you shrugged off the grating noise. Take responsibility. While he was busy off with Swansea, you managed to grab the axe unnoticed. Until now at least. You found him, sitting along with everyone. You were late to the party it seems and you were the plus one. "Are you also trying to fucking kill me after I saved the last pod for you?" "How romantic." You knew he was lying. He prioritized Curly despite it all and out of all people, you would know that. Co-dependency's finest. You glance at Curly who could only stare back, too tired to writhe in pain. "Is this our anniversary dinner?" Jimmy visibly grips on his fork as his knuckles turn white. "This isn't even all my fault!" He's self-aware. "Curly didn't have to enter that fucking room. If Swansea didn't guard utility, Daisuke would still be here, and I was just defending myself from Swansea! Now you're taking his side?!" The past year had been like this with him. Somehow, it's never his fault. It's impressive, really, how he manages to divert everything away from him. "Anya?" "You weren't giving me enough attention." You give him a look after letting out a noise of disbelief and his knees almost buckle out of nervousness. He hates it. He hates how he could feel like this around you. Vulnerability was never his forte, but he somehow let someone love him. Loved him. Somehow, even after all this, you put some blame on yourself. You let go of the tool, dropping onto the floor with a loud clang as you stood at the other end of the table, across from him. Your palms rest on the surface, putting your weight on it as you grabbed the edges. "Is the pod really going to be for me?" "I-" he chokes on his own words, frustrated. Unconsciously, his gaze moves over to Curly. Was the guilt eating him up? Good. "How do we fix this, Jimmy?" "How are you going to fix this?" He stays silent. Before you could continue, he moved fast. Too fast. You hear a metal click and— BANG.

[ Daisuke ]

🌺 "I love you, I'm waiting for you." 🪓

Naive you both were. He knew how tug on both of your strings. Daisuke and his longing for approval, and you with your feelings for Daisuke. Somehow, he managed to separate you both, just enough time so he could convince the intern to enter the vents. When you'd return with the item Jimmy needed, you slammed it on the table and ran over to the bottom of the entrance. "Wait- wait! Does he really have to go?!" You didn't want to piss Jimmy off, but there was an unsettling feeling in your gut. "We can wait for Swansea to wake—" "There's no more fucking time. Curly and Anya needs us." "I'll be okay. I promise." He can't turn around now, there was barely any space for him so instead, he remains curled up there, not wanting to accidentally snag on the loose wires. You chewed on your lower lip to the point where you tasted metal. Daisuke calls for your attention. "You still there?" "Mhm." "I'll be back, okay? Meet me back at med?" He hates it there and you knew it. Even if his voice weren't as shaky as it is now, you'd still know it. So why was he trying to calm you down. "Be careful." You assumed that he nodded when he crawled off. This time, there was no one to hold your hand to stop yourself from digging your nails into your cuticles. There was shuffling and grunting when suddenly something crashes and he screams in pain and your body felt cold. "Daisuke!" "Shitshitshit- hang on, kid. Keep going." "He's fucking hurt!" "Get a grip. He can't turn around." Jimmy holds you by the shoulders as an attempt to ground you before tilting his head, gesturing to head back up already. There was... Blood everywhere. Lacerations and electrocution burns littered all around his. Swansea and Jimmy were arguing after 'sanitizing' the injuries and you were holding onto Daisuke's hand as he gripped it tight, the other pressing your torn jacket as an attempt to stop the bleeding. You push all your feelings aside, focused on keeping him alive but when he groans out apologies, you couldn't help but tear up, biting your lower lip hard to stop yourself from crying. Not now. "Hey! Stop, stop, stop! Don't move!" You feel a hand on your shoulder as Swansea kneels beside you, setting the axe on his lap as his calloused fingers pried yours away from Daisuke's chest and made you intertwine yours with Daisuke's. "Spill it, kid." As much as you didn't want this to happen, you understood the situation and you feel your cheek dampen. Your free hand holds Daisuke's cheek, swiping off the tears and some of the blood as you tried to hush his pain. It doesn't work, but you were there for him and that was enough. You were always enough for him. More than it. He coughs again in-between his sobs and you hold his hand tighter. Shh, I'm here. It'll be okay. "Mmrgh.... I love you." Brushing his hair away from his face and pressing your lips onto his forehead one final time. "I love you too, Daisuke. So much." You finally pry yourself off of him and Swansea speaks next. When he asks him to close his eyes, he glances at you first and you smile before he finally does.

[ Swansea ]

🪓 Better than alone, is to be in bad company. 🦢

Hugging your knees, you two sat in silence trying to process everything. Swansea was staring at a bottle of Dragonbreath X, red fingerprints contrasting the artificial blue. If anything, you expected him to chug it down after the events had unfolded. But he doesn't. You only flinch as he threw the bottle onto the wall, loose cap flying off somewhere as the contents spilled to the floor. "Listen to me." Your head perks up, tilting to face him but he wasn't looking at you. He was staring blankly at the barely empty bottle laying Infront of him. "Haven't experienced all, but I've experienced enough. I'm ready." "Swan—" "Can it and listen." You purse your lips, leaning onto your forearm as you hug your knees closer. "Remember the Cryopods?" You nod. "Was trying to fix two. For you and Daisuke." He chuckles dryly. "Could only get one up and workin'. It was hard you know. Figuring out which one'a ya should get it." "Who did you choose?" "Like asking for a favorite child? Hope you never get that choice." He looks down and continues, voice trailing off. "Couldn't decide. But since Daisuke's..." Your gaze moves to the same empty bottle. "What I'm saying is, I need you to get to it. Don't worry about ol' Swansea. I'll handle Jimmy." "Swansea?" He grunts in acknowledgement. "Can I hug you?" He hesitates for a moment before finally opening his arms and you crawl in-between them.

[A/N: I honestly wanted Swansea's line for Jimmy but I wanted Curly and Jimmy's to parallel. Same goes for Daisuke and Swansea, instead I paralleled dsk with Anya. I'd love to ramble on about why I chose the lines but let's keep this note short and sweet lol.]

[igotanidea]

The fear : Jason Todd x fem!reader part 8

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

***

„You good?” Damian asked taking in her pale face and hurt eye expression.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She muttered, obviously lying. Even despite her experience-enhanced skills in the art of deceiving it was impossible to cover up for the fact that unwanted, unneeded and unwelcomed encounter with Jason took a huge tool on her mentality. And it lasted no longer than an hour.

An hour, that took turn from open hostility to a little unexpected heart to heart that opened old wounds. Reminding of the past mistakes, lost things and casted wounds. Ruined relationship that was doomed from the very beginning.

But even though-

They fought for it.

They fought to the best of their limited abilities, despite the world that was conspiring against them and throwing obstacles their way. Damn that tears that started flowing down her face when she started dwelling in the past. There was no denying she still held strong feelings for him, though couldn’t quite define if they were good ones or the bad ones.

“Y/N…”

“I’m fine, Damian. I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine…” she repeated as some sort of spell. A lie told a hundred times becoming a reality.

“Let’s get you upstairs first. We’ll watch some silly movies so you could stop telling me bullshit.”

“Hey! Language!”

“I’m 15, you can’t tell me what to do.”

“15 my ass. Still the same nasty little boy as always only with a fouler mouth.”

“It’s good to see you again Y/N.” Damian smirked

“Yeah, you too, kiddo.”

“You do realise you won’t be heading back home tonight, right?”

“What? Huh! You’re gonna keep me captive now or something?”

“You voluntarily got yourself in the house full of vigilantes, the heck were you thinking?”

“I could argue on that voluntarily part but-“

Regardless of what she said, it was evident that Damian has grown during the time they didn’t see each other. Not only in height, but also mentally. And it only made her realise the full amount of things she lost.

Not just the man she loved, but also priceless time with her best friends Wayne boys.

While Y/N was getting drunk and laughed with Dick, Tim and Damian upstairs, Jason refused to step a foot out the batcave as long as she was still in the manor.

Fuck her.

Fuck her help, her words, her gestures, her eyes and hair, her smile and her coming for the rescue attitude. Who the hell she thought she was?! Paw patrol?!

The anger started boiling in him again, threatening to take over.

Anger at everything, but mostly at himself for getting so vulnerable and honest with her, to the point when he asked her to fucking take him back.

Pathetic. Foolish. Idiot.

“Aghghhg!” he jumped from the chair kicking it with all the rage he had, nearly breaking the metal.

Fighting the urge to destroy all that stupid batcave – the real reason of his fucked up life and psyche. He could have been a normal boy being in a relationship with the girl of his dreams. Instead he had to die (leaving her in tears), come back (leaving her in tears), suffering from the Pit madness (leaving her in tears) and due to this fucking fear gas incident loose her again (leaving her in tears)

“FUCK!” he grabbed the chair and threw it on the floor “FUCK!” he yelled, throwing all the stuff from the nearest desk “FUCK!!!” he pulled at his hair, hard enough he could be left bald.

He had no idea what he wanted.

So fucking angry, horn-mad, charged with hands itching to punch something, someone, to destroy, hurt, kill…

Stop…

“Huh?! Get the fuck out of my head Y/N!!” he yelled in the air, his voice echoing through the empty space.

Stop, Jason…

Right. Stop. He was past his killing days. He was not a monster. Not a beast.

He changed. He grew up, matured, became a man and not a boy.

He had to get a hold of himself.

Move past the past.

If he couldn’t have her he might as well spend the evening with his crazy asses brothers, giving them his attitude, using the bad mood to banter and bicker and pick up on someone else to make himself feel better.

So he emerged from the batcave, almost in the same way he did emerge from the Pit.

Slowly heading upstairs.

To the main room, filled with surprising silence. Deafening silence that formed goosebumps on his arms and immediately put him on alert, searching for some kind of threat.

Vigilante instincts never fail.

There was some movement on the couch.

Two people, a man and a woman judging by the silhouettes.

Girl sitting on man's lap, straddling him, their hands all over each other, their lips moving together, the room filled with soft whines of pleasure and sweet whispers.

“Y/N…” the man whispered.

THE FUCK!?

Jason stomped inside without a care in the world, making the couple break the intense make-out session and look at him with terrified expressions.

“Grayson!!!” he yelled taking in the scene, his fury immediately raising head again. “Y/N!!!”

He was right.

There was someone else in her life already.

And that someone was the fuckboy - his older adoptive-brother.

[indecenthoney]

Friends, Just Friends

----------------------------

Weirdly. Everything is a bit hotter with a friend, which is weird because you talk to them every day. You send them funny tiktoks. Share a meal. Or even spend time with one another. Damn, you might even know their sleep schedule. I'm not saying it's right to look at your friend in that way. But it just happens, you know?

And you'd be lying if the thought hasn't crossed your mind.

They can be laughing for all you care, and suddenly, your eyes would wander to places they shouldn't. They'll be yapping and making jokes, and you'll just be there with your mind blank, wishing their hands would just run down your shorts. They'd call out to you over and over, but you're too busy thinking about them, forcing each and every finger down your pretty little hole-

"Dude... Dude! Are you listening? What's up with you today? Seriously... I've been trying to get your attention, and you keep spacing out... Are you feeling alright? You look flushed... Come here... Will you relax... I'm just going to check your temperature... I'm not going to bite... Unless you want me to... Hahaha... I'm kidding... I'm kidding.... Jeez... You're sooo jumpy today... Mmmm... Alright... You don't seem to have a fever... Just a bit flushed is all... Anyway... Youuuu good? You're staring really hard... Haha... Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something on my face?"

After being around you for so long, they kind of pick up a few habits of yours. Possibly, the way your face turns a bright shade of red every time you look at someone you like. Or how quiet you get when someone approaches you. Or even that submissive little look you give that just radiates "fuck me". And suddenly, you're sitting there feeling so small and needy. Unable to form words. Frustrated to the point that all you can do is whimper and whine as your friend takes advantage of your vulnerability.

"Wait a minute... I know that look... Noooo... You've gotta be fucking kidding me... Youuuu have a little crush on me, don't you? That's it, isn't it? Hahahaha... You pooooor thing... Well, aren't you cute? Whimpering like that... So it's true, huh? Hey... Deny it all you want... But I've known you since forever... You've given every little fling and boy toy the same look... If you think you can play it off, then what's this, huh?"

All you can do is: Deny. Deny. Deny. But they see right through you. Before you know it, you're on your back with their hand pressing down your throat. And please, even if you did squirm, it wouldn't be long till you give in. You know yourself. You want this. You try to fight it off, but they're two fingers deep, and you're too brain-dead to make it stop. And as you lay there and take it, you're wondering to yourself, why does it feel soooo damn good? Well, it's because they know you. Every fling or fuck story you mentioned. They've been keeping tabs of it all. From soft kisses to the way you like your cunt slapped. You've probably believe that there were no secrets between friends. But now, when you're put on the spot, it's too embarrassing to admit.

"Yeah? Does it feel good, princess? Oh fuck... Look at you tightening up... You like that, huh? Calling you princess? You must really like me if you're squeezing down this much, huh? Is that so? If you hate it so much, then why don't I just pull out..."

Retreating their fingers, feelings of emptiness soon overwhelm you. You want nothing more than for them to belittle you and fill you up. But you can't say that, can you? So you're doomed to watch as their fingers hover. A fiery need begins to grow, and you can't help but buck your hips in hopes to reach their fingers. Regret setting in as you whine to be filled once more.

"And here I thought you didn't like me... Hahahaha... How slutty do you have to be to buck your hips like that... Don't you have any shame? God, you're pathetic... Alright... Alright... Enough with the water works... I got you... Is this what you want? Yeah? Mmmm... Good girl... Fuck... I barely even touched you, and you're already this wet..."

Having admit to your desires, you've become nothing but a toy. You feel fear, excitement creep in as the hand around your throat tightens. Such a surreal moment, watching your fantasy play out before you. Never would you have imagined that your friend would be in complete control. You lay there, restless. Their hand skimming over the opening. Teasing you. Anticipation building with each passing second until, finally, you feel that sweet release. Taking finger after finger. A sensation wells up inside you, just as you imagined. Relief. One finger filling you to the brim. And two, a tight fit, no matter how wet you are. Each and every movement, too much. Your body left in shambles as they stretch you with ease. Overwhelming the senses. Despite your pleas, they move, leaving no time to adjust. Driving their fingers to the deepest parts of you. Pleasure striking with every pulse. Your voice, incoherent from the pleasure.

"You know I can't understand you with you all that moaning... C’mon, princess... Use your words... Nice and slow for me... A break? What do you need a break for? You're going to cum? Already? Wow... I don't know what to say... That's kind of embarrassing... Hahaha... Hmmmm... How about... No... You heard me... No... You're done when I say you're done..."

You look to your friend for solace but only see a sick, twisted smile that wanted nothing more than for you to cum. It brought them joy seeing you wriggle and writhe in pain with every climax. Your once tight cunt, now formed perfectly around their fingers. Coating them in your juices. You could barely form a thought as they pound into you. The embarrassment you once had was now far gone. Tongue hanging freely as you melt into a sensual bliss. Slowly embracing your position beneath them. A complete and utter slut in their disposal. Pretty little words that leave you numb. They'd call out to you over and over, but you're too busy thinking about them, forcing each and every finger down your pretty little hole-

"Dude... Dude! Are you listening? What's up with you today? Seriously... I've been trying to get your attention, and you keep spacing out... Are you feeling alright?"

Confused. Words that you've heard a million times before. Your eyes begin to wander and so does your mind. Going to places they shouldn't.

And you'd be lying if the thought hasn't crossed your mind

---------------------------------

Delulu until it becomes trululu,

Honey

[florsial]

Spreading my 2 headed lamb Regulus animagus agenda with Black Brother angst!!!

word: 820

someone give Sirius a hug or something like damn he rlly going through it

WWE WERE BORN TO DIEEEEEEEEEEE ( i love ldr music)

As he walks, the crunching of the branches underneath his feet calms the harsh beating of his heart. It hadn't been a good day. He felt like he was constantly being watched by his parents. The entire day was spent anxiously looking over his shoulders, expecting his mother to turn a corner with a wand in hand or his father to yank his shoulder with a bruising grip when his back was turned.

He really needed his walk, at least that was what James insisted on.

For a couple of minutes, he manages to clear his head, the grip of his parents loosened, leaving his mind to heal from the harsh and bruising touch. His feet soon stopped near the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and he was able to see Hagrid's hut, he figured he might as well stop by to say hi.

Sirius takes a couple of steps before he promptly stops. With widened eyes, he takes a step back from the disfigured animal. A two-headed black lamb, a baby, but not exactly a newborn, nowhere near a sheep. Its two heads conjoined by the side of their faces, the eyes wide and watching Sirius' movement with unsettling attention. The animal was creepy and yet he could not look away.

It made a noise, from one of its heads, and its legs wobbled a bit. A small movement that makes Sirius' heart ache pitifully. Remus had a farm back in Wale. He told Sirius of animals, sometimes humans, born with more than one head and dying not much sooner because they simply were born to die, doomed from the very beginning. They wouldn't have been able to survive the harsh world with the disability, nor would their bodies be able to continue the demands of life. And looking at the lamb, he thinks of how this might be the last time he sees it.

With slow steps to not scare the animal, he approaches with an outstretched hand. A comforting gesture. He manages to close enough where he can sit down and pet its soft fleece. The animal reciprocates the action, settling down to the ground beside Sirius.

"Hey there little guy," He hums.

The lamb doesn't reply, only closing its eyes. So Sirius continues to talk, "How have ya been? Well I hope, you look tired."

"I am too you know?" He runs his fingers through the soft black fleece. The animal shifts its position, slowly maneuvering itself to Sirius' lap.

"Looks like both of us are worn out, huh?"

The lamb never replies, Sirius guesses it takes too much out of the animal. So he fills the silence with his chatter about his friends, his academics, pranks, and Remus, but soon it shifts to a bit of his parents, and some of Regulus, which leaves his eyes watery. Despite never getting a baa in reply, he feels heard and comforted by the lamb.

When he finishes, he finds his face damp. The lamb leans closer and Sirius begins to sob into the black fleece. He admits in his tears, that he misses his family. He misses the times when their mother didn't scold them for minor things and gave them a cold shoulder, when their father wasn't locked up in his office or shouting at their mother, and the times he played with Regulus while the little boy was still oblivious to the world and giggled at every little thing.

At that, the lamb finally replied in its soft baaa from one of its heads. A sound that draws a wet chuckle from Sirius.

"Thank you," he mumbles softly against the fleece, "Lulu would like you, he's always been fond of lambs."

Another baa in response that makes Sirius smile.

He isn't able to stay with the lamb for long though, because he hears the familiar calls of, "Padfoot! Padfoot!" And he knows that his friends must be looking for him. Sirius turns to the lamb who is now slowly moving off of Sirius. A clear sign that he is about to leave. He wants to tell it to stay but before his mouth can form the words, the lamb makes a sound and turns around to leave. He watches the lamb move further but isn't able to stay long enough to see it fully leave his sight before his friends jump him with a group hug. Dragging his eyes away from the leaving lamb.

For the rest of his time in Hogwarts, he doesn't see the two-headed lamb again. It's only when he takes another walk to clear his head during the war in 1979, does he see it again. Black fleece and two heads conjoined standing on wobbly legs, staring directly at him, but it didn't feel like a visit, it felt like a goodbye. A permanent one.

The next day, Regulus is declared dead and Sirius never sees the two-headed black lamb again.

[wolven91]

Eating Habits

Kevin stared as the alarming clicks and cracks of a dislocated jaw snapping back into place continued only a foot away, across the table.

Meesha, the giant blue serpent he was being escorted by that day 'hummed' in enjoyment and contentment. The ssypno were huge apex predators, but after the last year and a half of seeing them around, Kevin had thought he'd gotten used to them by now. His new guardian however, taught him the 'mild' aspects that he'd missed in his brief interactions in the past. Specifically in this moment; their eating habits.

"I love it when they warm it up just right, really gives it... flair! You know?" She gleefully celebrated as the alien deer sized lump descended into her body before disappearing from sight below the table. It had been so big that Kevin had wondered what she was going to do with it, let along pick it up and gulp it down like it was nothing more than a jelly shot!

The ssypno were big. Really, really big. Like, forty-five foot long and two and a half foot wide; big. So, when Meesha placed her 'plate' down and it had formerly held a full-grown animal, Kevin had forgotten about his own trauma on a plate.

"You eating those?" She asked quietly, pointing a large, clawed digit below his chin at his untouched plate. It had been several minutes since they sat down and his own 'meal' was untouched.

Kevin looked down at the five squidgits that were curled up on his plate. Space rodents or livestock, thankfully they were dead. The human admitted that he had no intention of attempting to swallow them despite the fact that they had been arranged artfully around the plate before a squiggle of some sort of light green sauce had been drizzled over them to give them 'flair' as Meesha put it. It reminded him of a fancy restaurant from back home.

"Weirdly, I'm not hungry. Had a big breakfast." The man mumbled a lie, once again shell shocked at the culture clash he got from being brought into ssypno territories.

She reached over, plucking one of the creatures from the plate, wiped it against the sauce and plopped it straight into her waiting maw.

"Weird, I didn't think you had much more than one of those fruit things?" She pointed out, mouth full and talking around it.

"Yeah, something like that." Kevin replied idly as he watched the mouse- pig-chinchilla thing barely make a bump in her gullet as descended to its doom. He realised that the ssypno never chewed their food. their mouth full of fangs were just there to hold prey.

"Whatever." The gulp that followed had a nonchalant air to it. No different than someone snacking on some Doritos.

Kevin was actually pretty damn hungry now, but in an effort to improve his relations with his 'guardian' Meesha, he had made a point to have lunch with her. Something he hadn't done before and wondered if he should do again. He frowned at the interesting display as he watched the second creature suddenly disappear and a similar small bulge begin the same journey as the first.

Was it a trick of his eyes, or was that lump wiggling? Meesha caught Kevin staring.

"If you wanted to watch... you could have just asked..." She murmured with a sudden smirk and a sultry wink. Kevin's eyes bugged out of his head.

"That's not, I mean, it's not like that!" He stammered, panicking that he'd just ruined the diplomatic opportunity that he had been afforded, his hands came up defensively, holding them up in innocence. She was watching him as if she had just realised what she was doing was appreciated, completely missing the fact the display merely held the human's attention like a road accident. Dark curiosity held her gaze.

The unconvinced 'uh huh' did little to calm Kevin as Meesha repeated the action of before. Plucking a squidgit, only this time using its tail to dangle it over her open mouth, before lowering it slowly. All the while she maintained eye contact with him, staring down at him over her snout. It didn't matter they were two different species, the heat that rose up the back of his neck agreed with the 'subtle' hints she was giving him. His body didn't care she was making a show of eating things; he was receiving signals!

Without a word, the fourth and fifth space-mouse was plucked up, all the while, she was staring into his soul.

She was slower this time. Her forked tongue reached out towards it and mimicked a ssypno by wrapping around the creature's blubbery middle, before a rapid yank drew it into the waiting maw.

Without swallowing, she closed her eyes and quietly moaned in front of the stunned human. She 'savoured' the small rodent, rolling it around her mouth, suckling at it loudly, whilst reaching to cover his hand with hers, capturing it quite easily as her limb dwarfed his.

Her groans of pleasure continued, punctuated with squeezes to his hostage wrist. Kevin's red face deepened in shade.

Eventually she swallowed, noisily.

The man's eyes were glued to the final lump as it too, began the journey down, past the defined pecs of her chest. She got his attention by drawing her free hand to trail a finger down the centre of her chest, following it until the lump disappeared although her hand still tracked it before it too slipped beneath the table.

"If I'd known you were into food play, I would have demanded you as my ward weeks ago." Meesha announced with a grin, while she leaned forwards, resting her head in her hands and her tongue flicked out, startling the human.

Kevin's stomach chose this moment to growl in protest. Meesha's grin was downright predatory.

"My, my, Kevin.. we need to go back to mine for something to eat..." She promised, standing rapidly and, without letting go of his wrist, pulling him along with her with ease. The ssypno strength once more rendering his own no match for hers.

"Plus, I'm still famished... if I don't eat something soon, I might end up eating you.." She whispered with a wink backwards and a brief raise of the ridge above her eyes.

"You... you couldn't actually do that right?" Kevin asked, finding his voice again.

"Nah, we can only just about eat something as large as ourselves." She replied.

Kevin looked up at her back with wide panicked eyes. The ssypno were big... and he was smaller than the damn deer!

[zorosleftshoe]

Snippet of “Cherry Pie - (c.b)

“I told you to be civil.” Sam’s eyes are anything but accusing as the words fall from his lips. He knows I had only retaliated in self defense as Colby had backed me into a corner. “I don’t know why you two can’t just get along.” I take a seat next to Sam and pat his back in a friendly manner.

“Would you like for me to go apologize?” He shakes his head and my shoulders relax at the thought of not having another interaction with Colby.

“That would just start another world war three and I can’t deal with the headache. I still have to finish the editing.” Sam groans before collapsing against the back of the couch and covering his eyes with his forearm. “Colby has my laptop charger.” With a heavy sigh, I rise to my feet and dust off my all too tight black shorts.

“I will ask him for it, okay? I’ll apologize for the whole fiasco and have a talk with him.” Sam’s face shifts as worry glosses over his delicate features. “It’ll be fine.” At this point I’m not sure if I’m trying to reassure Sam or myself. “It’s just Colby.” The stairs seemed to grow longer with each step I took towards what I could only consider impending doom.

It wasn’t that I hated Colby. If anything, I felt complete indifference towards him, given he had quickly shut me down and left me wondering what I had done wrong after our first meeting.

Colby’s door was shut and I couldn’t help but feel myself inch backwards towards the stairs. This was a stupid idea. With a heavy sigh I find myself rapping my knuckles against the wood of his door. In the distance there’s a soft groan before footsteps. The door opens and Colby’s head peaks through the small opening he has allowed. His eyes widen as he drinks in my figure standing before him.

“What the hell do you want?” I can feel my blood already beginning to boil at his words but I suppress what I’m feeling for the time being.

“Sam needs him charger.” He grunts before going to move away but I’m quick to reach out and lightly touch his hand that is still rested against the door. “I also wanted to apologize.” Colby’s eyebrows raise in what I can only assume is confusion.

“Why the hell would you do that?” I cock my head slightly and he shakes his head before opening the door enough for me to squeeze through. “I thought this was our thing?”

“Huh?”

“Hating each other? I thought that was our thing?” He asks scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“I never said I hated you. In fact, I never said anything about how I felt about you.” I pause fiddling with a loose hem on the bottom of my shirt. “You would say all these harsh things and I felt like I had no choice but to retaliate. Eye for an eye type of thing.” Colby scoffs before settling beside me on his bed.

“If it means anything now, I never hated you either.” His words are much softer now. Any anger that has lingered before has vanished and was replaced with a new feeling. “I only said that shit because,” he pauses then. His hands are clasped firmly in his lap and I notice how he picks at the skin of his thumb.

“Because?” He groans in frustration before covering his eyes with his hands.

“If you’d give me a damn minute I’d tell you.” His cheeks, now tinted pink, puff up before he looks at me. “Because I was protecting myself.” My eyebrows twitch up in confusion at his words. Protecting himself? “You came hurdling into my life like a fucking meteor and I didn’t know what to do. All of a sudden this beautiful girl is here and she’s so fucking hilarious. She has the same interest as me, she’s best friends with my best friend, and she’s the sweetest person I’ve ever met.” He pauses, glancing away from me, clearly embarrassed. “I hate the way you make me feel.” These words are whispered as if they are a secret he isn’t quite sure he’s ready to tell.

[jade-kyo]

RvB 20th rewatch: s1

Here it is, after giving myself some time to let the post restoration emotions settle I am finally commencing my 20th rewatch of RvB 1-13. I’ll be sharing my thoughts as I go and doing a few other special things. I’ll also be rewatching the PSAs, miniseries, and some of the extra stuff that’s on the dvds! Welp let’s get started with season 1!

Trocadero really didn’t have to go that hard right out the gate but they did that for us

Grimmons and chucker really started it all huh…

Also the way one of Sarge’s first lines is a grimmons joke istg

The way the characters are so well established right from the get go- they say so much with so little. Like right away you get that Sarge doesn’t like Grif and Simmons sucks up to Sarge without them ever directly saying it. They just have natural flowing and sounding dialogue that allows you to infer all this information so easily and I just RAAAHHHH THIS SHOWS DIALOGUE IS SO GOOD

“A walrus” “didn’t I just tell you to stop making up animals!” Is one of my favorite lines in the whole show I quote it so frequently

DONUT MY BELOVED REMEMBER WHEN YOU WERE JUST A NORMAL DUDE

Remember when Caboose called Tex a slut? Absolutely wild times fr

I love how this show allows its characters to have bad comebacks and lame jokes. It’s part of what makes the characters feel so damn real cause let’s face it- we all fail to have witty comebacks from time to time

“WHO IS RUNNING THIS ARMY” a line that came back to bite RT in the ass so many times lol

Love how the character that can’t aim for shit had the sniper as his signature weapon. One of the funniest bits in the show.

Also love how in the time that they spent arguing over the teleporter they could’ve walked to Donut 😂

“What the fuck are you babbling about” is also one of my most quoted lines

Donut really was the only normal one in the beginning lol

Ah the true inciting incident- Church’s first death. If that hadn’t happened we’d probably have an entirely different show.

Remember when Vic was also normal

TEX MY BELOVED

“That makes you a gay robot” Caboose predicted the entire story in one line

Church: explaining that he’s a ghost. // Tex who knows the entire truth: oh I am going to milk the shit out of this

Girlie really just said yes and to a bit Church didn’t know he was a part of

GOD THE UNINTENTIONAL FORESHADOWING IS CRAZY FROTHING AT THE MOUTH

“I never told him… he was my son” imagine if In restoration when Sarge dies he told Grif he was his son… honestly that single throw back could’ve redeemed the entire season for me could you IMAGINE I would have LOST IT

Church’s determination to save Tex being their downfall is such an established thing all the way back in season 1 and it follows the entire series and I just AGDJGAKSHSKHSKDGDJHD

They were doomed from the start

They could never escape the cycle

O’Malley my beloved

Holy shit the nostalgia hit hard during those credits, it’s only season 1 and I’m already getting teary eyed I’m not gonna survive this rewatch

Welp season 1 is done! God I love this show so much. Truly there are no words for how much it means to me. It just feels like coming home every time I watch it.

[mllemaenad]

The Magnus Protocol: Marked

Huh. The tattoos are interesting.

At the moment, they remind me most of "Leitners". Of course, there are other cursed objects in the world, but these, like the weird books of The Magnus Archives are specifically pieces of art that can infect a person and drive them to extreme acts.

They are linked, not by any particular obsession, but by the sense of compulsion itself. Daria, of Making Adjustments was driven to self-mutilation by her tattoo, because of her insecurity about her appearance. Gordie, David and, given that the actual company email address goes inactive at the end of the story, quite possibly the entire landscaping crew, were drawn inexorably to the sea by a sense of nostalgia.

Chester/Gordie On a personal note, I’d just like to say thank you for using us to do this job. I know we can’t have been the cheapest company to put in a bid, but as local lads we’ve been coming to this graveyard all our lives (even if just to sneak some booze as stupid teenagers), and now that the cliff’s finally giving up the ghost (if you’ll pardon the pun), it feels right for us to be the ones taking it apart. – The Magnus Protocol: Marked

They are not anxious or afraid – not at the beginning, anyway. It is their fondness for the cemetery that dooms them.

But even though theme around what the tattoo means and what it does to someone is quite different, there's apparently a community of some kind devoted to them. For a start, the particular tattoo in the story is from no later that 1908, and while I admit "Oscar Jarrett" is not a name that immediately means something to me, "Sutherland Macdonald" was a real Victorian tattoo artist. So this has been going on a while. And, Ink5oul seems to have some pretty strong ideas about what that tattoo was – and must have had some idea it was in that graveyard, to turn up within two days of the body's exhumation.

There's some kind of community built around mystical tattoos. It is old and, given the evidence from Making Adjustments, alive, well, and still inking creepy images into people to this very day.

That's an interesting thing in itself. The cults in The Magnus Archives were built around allegiance to a particular power. Leitner existed, but he was one guy with a particularly awful book collection. What draws these people together?

And if the tattoos are in any way like the Leitners, that carries with it some worrying implications.

The first thing is that the books typically had to be picked up and read to cause any significant harm. And while, yes, tattoos may be deliberately covered with clothing or makeup, there's still a much greater chance of a lot of people being casually exposed to them.

The second thing is that ... well, tattoos are on people. No one thought twice about burning a Leitner, assuming it was one that would burn. Hell, "setting the annoying books on fire" was Gerard Keay's whole thing. But what's the plan if you are dealing with an image that lives in the skin of a person? And a person, who, like Daria, genuinely had no idea what they were signing up for?

Then there's the meta around the case. Sam, here, behaves exactly like John did. He's always had an interest in the cases, of course. But the core thing about John was that he knew not a damned thing about monsters – but he always paid attention to the people. This is an easy one, of course; I'm sure everyone went HEY IT'S THE CREEPY TATTOO ARTIST! But it's true nevertheless. Ink5oul the creepy tattoo artist has been active at least as recently as 2020.

Sam wants to note the pattern. John was obstructed by a (deliberately) poorly organised archive. Even if he had the general idea of what kind of thing he needed to find, actually finding it was almost impossible. Sam is obstructed by any reasonable means of stringing his research together. Or at least so Alice says – I haven't forgotten that she was either lying or very wrong about the search function not working.

But the nature of the OIAR seems to be that it puts a barrier between the people doing the assessing and the cases themselves. They are removed from the situation in a way that the archival staff were not. And Sam has breached that barrier. He knows someone is out there who is involved in this stuff.

As for Alice, well, she's being followed. Probably by [ERROR], although we'll see. The episode is called Marked. The dead man in the grave was marked by his tattoo. Gordie, David and likely the rest were marked by exposure to it. Explicitly, Gordie became obsessed by the shape in the water. Something was pursuing that ship, and he had to know what it was. And Alice ... well, something has marked her, and is pursuing her.

The most interesting thing, really, is that it's Alice being pursued, not Sam. Sam wanted to go to The Magnus Institute, and found nothing but a soggy ruin. Alice complained every step of the way – and she's the one with the stalker.

Sam No, you’re right. I don’t know what I’m looking for. I have… I have memories of weird stuff I saw here, but no context. I want to know what was happening, why they chose us… why they didn’t choose me. Maybe find the bit where everything started to go wrong. But… it’s too late. And now… I’m the only one left who cares. – The Magnus Protocol: Saturday Night

Is that a thing, somehow? That Sam is fundamentally the one who does not get chosen? John was a magnet for every horror in the story – and it was all very deliberate, with the pain and fear leading to a final goal. But if Sam is somehow resistant to the horrors ... There seems to be something up with him. There are bits of static clearly popping up in the dialogue. There's something that made The Magnus Institute pick him up initially. But there's also something that made them let him go. Perhaps the peril is not to him, but to the people around him.

Gwen did just get thoroughly traumatised. And yes, she absolutely did that to herself, but it still happened.

I do wonder what Gwen thought the job was, though. She does nothing but read (or hear) and categorise monster stories all night, every night. But seems genuinely appalled that being "in" means confronting monsters. Did she think it was all code for something else?

And Celia – well, there you just throw up your hands. Obviously relevant. Too little detail yet to do anything with it. The how and why of her sleeping in the middle of nowhere is important, sure. But who's Jack?

Ah, well. Thoughts for later, I guess.

[dollarbin]

Dollar Bin #36:

Love Has No Pride

My local record store is hard at work purging $5 titles from table top bins and dooming them to the higgeldy piggeldy Dollar Bins beneath. Are you longing for some Neil Diamond or Captain and Tennille? Well, you're in luck: you can seize their entire 70's catalogs for 93 pre-tax cents a piece. I've passed altogether on both artists so far, but who knows, maybe one day I'll discover that corpulent dogs, medalions and chest hair are the keys to great music.

I got gleefully down on my knees last week and combed through it all, emerging with 15 titles for 15 bucks. Here's the hoard:

Will I ever actually listen to Melanie's first record or Linda Ronstadt wingman Andrew Gold's attempt at a solo album? Maybe? Will I make good on my long ago promise to listen to an unmelted version of Art Garfunkel's Watermark? Someday.

I did listen to Poco's first record, which you can see above, with some anticipation: my famous brother recently recommended it as, basically, another Buffalo Springfield record. But when my eldest daughter asked me to please turn it the hell off I eagerly complied. It sounded more than un poco terrible.

But the treasure, so far, from this latest Dollar Bin haul are three Bonnie Raitt records from the 70's.

Raitt's Nick of Time was a big deal when I first discovered as a kid that VH1 was often less terrifying than MTV. And so I developed an early bias against Bonnie that still lingers. She didn't look like Janet Jackson or sing Tom Petty; plus I was uncomfortable with a lady having some gray hair while rocking the blues: 13 years old boys can be sexist little brats.

But I'm a guy who likes to second guess my biases, and so when I came upon her titles last week in the Dollar bin I remembered that Raitt is friends with Ronstadt and I know have more gray hair than Raitt. And so, I figured, what the hell did I have to lose for 93 cents?

And that brings us to today's topic: Eric Kaz's 70's torch song Love Has No Pride. Is it an essential piece of the 70's musical expression? Probably not. The song's a bit overwrought and features some regrettable nonsense about wishing you could buy your beloved's affections; either Kaz wasn't familiar with the song and/or concept Can't Buy Me Love, which seems pretty damn unlikely, or he wished his lady in question would give up her day job and become a woman of ill repute, which is hopefully not the deal, or he just ran out of things to say and grabbed at something silly.

For what it's worth, if you are gonna involve female sex workers in your music I recommend you either get weird and have them bend down to tie the laces of your shoe or go full Ringo and call them women of the night with a big silly grin.

Even so, Love Has No Pride clearly resonated with the record buying public in the early 70's as Raitt, Ronstadt and then Rita Coolidge each issued complimentary versions of the track between 71 and 74. Let's consider them in reverse chronological order, beginning with Coolidge's effort on what may be her best record, Fall Into Spring.

I want to start with Rita, whose records unfairly clog up many a Dollar Bin, because her version of Love Has No Pride is surely why the song dwells in my bones. Coolidge was in my extended family when I was born as she and Kris Kristofferson were still married and Kris, as you can read elsewhere, is my mother's cousin. And so I grew up utterly familiar with Rita's smokey smolder of a voice from my mom's 8 tracks and country radio.

I have no memory of ever actually meeting her, and I doubt I ever did. I was surely left with a babysitter on the rare occasion when my folks hung out with Kris and Rita because, after all, drunken debauchery, which was the performers' calling card, doesn't mix well with babies, especially homely looking ones. And I was mighty homely.

Anyway, take a listen to Rita's version: it's stately and elegant; nothing is forced and nothing is too complicated.

Nice huh? Coolidge consistently drags at the pace, indifferent to anyone who could ever rush her. And by the end we need reminders that she's got an ace band around her: everything in this song centers on Rita and we can't blame the cat on the cover for trying to claim her full attention.

It was a pretty gutsy move on Coolidge's part to record the track; after all, two years earlier Linda Ronstadt had ignored its torch song potential and instead lit up an entire barn. Listen to her throw everything at the tune: we've got back up singers, galloping percussion, 16 different guitar sounds, emerging strings and, at the center of it all, like a detonating star, her own titanic voice.

Ronstadt is one of my favorite singers of all time, and her take on Love Has No Pride is always welcome on my turntable. That said, I prefer Coolidge's slower, simpler arrangement, and I suspect Linda did too. After putting out her version of Love Has No Pride Linda let go of female backing choirs altogether and let a new producer, Peter Asher, help her streamline her arrangements in honor of her voice and solo gesture.

And so, now you know: Rita's take came through the bars of my crib and my own kids grew up with Linda's.

But The Dollar Bin is a mighty force, and it holds many secrets. And, until this last week, Raitt's original take from 71 was one of them.

And maybe, just maybe, her version is the best of the bunch:

Raitt sings the song so simply. Barns don't catch fire, torches are not lit. Instead we've got sweet picking, gurgling bass and a brave woman giving us some straight talk about how she feels and who she loves.

Wow. Bonnie Raitt, people! I'll race you back to those Dollar Bins; looks like it's time to track down the rest of her 70's catalog.

[codingpoodle]

AoT Ending thoughts on symbolism and greater scheme of things (cycle of hatred, fate, etc.)

Spoilers of course. If this reads a bit weird, I am somewhere between buzzed and drunk. Because the ending of this damn story left me depressed but also plotholes + commentary on themes that are in other existing works.

Based on manga panels, it is clear the giant tree growing from/near Eren’s grave mirrors the giant tree Ymir stumbled across while fleeing pursuers. For Ymir, this was the site of her original curse, something she didn’t ask for. The mirrored trees obviously imply that the source of the Titan’s power may return should someone (I.e. the boy who was wandering the forest in the final panel) stumble upon it. 

HOWEVER. And I’m not trying to be an optimist here. The ending leaves it open whether the boy goes into the tree or not. For all we know, he could go “huh, cool tree” but not go inside it (he is with his dog, probably wouldn’t want to abandon it). If the boy went in the tree, we can assume a new cycle of Titan curse would occur. If the boy did not go in, and went on his way, the tree would still be there. Here are my thoughts based on these two scenarios.

The boy goes in: New cycle of Titan power begins, but the world is different (since when Ymir began the cycle it was more primitive times). Due to the nature of the Founder and retaining memories from inheritors previous and future, it could be argued, and I think within a good amount of reason, that to some extent, the memories of Ymir’s cycle would exist in this new Founder Titan. All of that transpired when Ymir was a slave all the way to Eren and Mikasa freeing her through a cataclysmic event, and the root of the whole thing: power and control. 

The boy goes about his merry way: The giant tree is still there. Even though the boy in the final panel left, the tree doesn’t just wither. Someone else could stumble upon it and innocently fall into the sinkhole and get doused in the source of life’s liquid. Point being, a new cycle can keep being delayed if ignored, but the possibility of a renewal is always present. This could go on for tens of thousands of years. The possibility will still be there, it will forever haunt the world. Maybe no one will ever go in... 

And now, the greater scheme of things part...

The first King Fritz was a power hungry maniac. His Eldia was already killing and pillaging before the Titans were a thing. What also was present before the Titans? The source of all life. If the source of all life is indeed the source that brought about all beings, then there was already conflict in the world, as though it was the nature from the source. Conflict existed before Titans. 

If the source of all life birthed a bunch of beings that end up warring with each other, we can see a parallel to our real world. In AoT universe, when interacted with (via Ymir by random chance) it seems to accentuate the nature of conflict and power by making the first Titan -- something hyper-powerful to exert dominance over others. The source of all life naturally fuels conflict because of the existence of power. One could say it’s in “human nature”, which would parallel the Real World. Power corrupts. 

And if we don’t learn from history, it is doomed to repeat itself. 

(If AoT’s royal Founders didn’t just willynilly erase memories maybe people would’ve learned (I get that surface-level reasoning is that they erased memories so they could be exterminated because redemption, in their eyes, was out of reach even though at that point in time there were majority innocents to the atrocities of those committed an era earlier) to NOT repeat that kind of shit. Like, just let everyone in on what happened and there could maybe be a mutual understanding SMH. ANYWAY.)

That’s where the whole thing about inheriting all memories across time comes into play. As mentioned in the above section (The boy goes in), the new source of life and the potential of a new founder could reasonably inherit the previous cycle’s memories of violence, thus informing the new founder of previous tragedy that can be avoided going forward. Or at least lessened. I mean, the Attack Titan could see “forward”, to what extent is fate deterministic? (More on determinism later.) 

Reality, no matter how deterministic this fictional world works, eventually has to write itself if a future vision wants to exist and essentially forward the message to the past (tbh when this became a main plot point for the world building I immediately went “ew, paradox shit BYE”). So to some extent, a freestyle reality had to have occurred without any interference of some all-knowing being. And that freestyle reality still has conflict and revenge and perseverance. I don’t think Eren forced anything so much as he saw the “original” reality and saw that as the fate bound to happen (he was kinda bound by fatalistic thinking, since he saw everything happen in “visions” and probably thought “hey, this is bound to happen, so I have to reinforce that it does because it already came to pass”). I mean, Grisha injected Eren with Titan serum, and Eren wouldn’t have had the Attack Titan’s abilities/memories had Grisha not done that in the first place. Eren wouldn’t have been able to influence anything if not for this event happening to begin with.

Perhaps the nature of the Paths imbues other lines of thinking (I.e. when Grisha didn’t want to slaughter the Reiss family) since it gives views into AUs in a way. We see this especially when Eren brings Mikasa to the path in which they abandon the war and live out their time together in relative peace. “In another life”, if I may. There may be a canon reality (just based on how this world works), but the nature of the Paths (hell, the fact that they’re called Paths) can see that there’s a possibility out there.

Before I forget, I’d like to mention that this branch of fate/inevitable reality (root reality?) may reflect Langton’s Ant, in which a cycle will repeat itself even with chaotic beginnings. In terms of AoT, no matter how many deviances occur, the Ant will return to its path. Then there’s the Mandlebrot set, which has its own cycles but also sees points of departure from the set. The Ant is set to a cycle while the Mandlebrot set has its escapees from the cycle. I wonder if any of these concepts influenced Isayama. 

So if the nature of the Paths is retained in a new cycle (memory retention etc.) it is possible that humanity in a future cycle of destruction can learn from the previous cycle. This parallels our actual world, in which technology advances and civilization moves on after several tragic events between nations and cultures. And yet while weapons and tech become more powerful and worrisome, people as a whole seem to have better understandings of one another (the growth of LGBTQA+, diversity, advocacy, cycle breaking within families, etc.) and are going out of their ways to break pre-established cycles of hatred. 

This could be the case for the boy (or whoever) if he ends up entering the giant tree. Having knowledge of the previous cycle via memories, a new cycle of violence may begin, but with an improved mode of attaining peace. While the final manga panel is ominous in that it implies humanity is doomed to a cycle of hatred (which makes sense), it also seems to imply, through all the fighting done by our Survey Corps/Warriors team, it can be stopped, or at least lessened each time a new cycle begins. We can do better, should we continue to learn from history. To me, in this cyclical world of war, if horrible atrocities are inevitable, then they can also be cyclically stopped. If the boy starts a new cycle, then there’s a way for it to end, because it’s been done before.Taking a cue from the series, when Hange joins with the deceased Survey Corps and Erwin tells them they did their job right, it has this vibe of “you did your best while trying to do the right thing, and that is what humanity needs more of. You’ve done your part in setting this on its course.” 

Eren wanted to free the subjects of Ymir via mass genocide and turning his allies into heroes for taking him down. Zeke wanted to sterilize them so they could eventually die out. If Eren and Mikasa ran away like in one of the Paths, annihilation via Marley would continue. It all ends with annihilation one way or another. Would sterilization/dying out trap Ymir? Or would the cycle find another way to start? Maybe someone out there knows, but the source of all life was just out there when Ymir found it, could it reappear? I feel like Isayama wouldn’t simply seal it away, because whenever something gets sealed away (see: Legend of Zelda (which also has a hatred cycle), Naruto, honestly a lot of popular works) it finds a way out. Like, if Ymir doesn’t have anymore living subjects to bestow Titan power upon via Paths (because if no one is eaten, then some random subject gets it), maybe a new Giant Tree type of thing would happen. I mean, that kinda happened with Eren’s dead head, which was severed from the life centipede. I guess you could argue that after all the Eldians die, including any of the 9 titans (well, I guess 7 since Eren combined a couple) a giant tree could still be born from their bones. 

I think what’s ironic is Eren so wanted freedom, but he was bound by his fatalistic thinking. While he was the one who convinced Ymir that she’s always had her choice, he did not see his own choices available due to time moving different in his mind. Maybe someone needed to do a similar sequence with him to remind him he too has a choice and isn’t bound by the visions of Rumbling. But of course, he pulled a season 8 Daenerys Targaryen (he burned that wheel just like her oop but a little more in character). 

At the end of the day, any work of fiction is a commentary on something. In this case, it’s a commentary on cycles of violence. The source of all life brought and continued to create (Titans) conflict, and people kept trying for revenge, perpetuating war and oppression. Is it human nature to oppress? But then there’s always something within human nature that wants to resolve it. It’s a doomed cycle that ebbs and flows, but we can learn. Just stop erasing the memories if you’re in AoT’s universe, and stop censoring books in the real world. See everyone as a proper human. And maybe one day, while the possibility of a new cycle of violence being born will be everpresent, we can learn from past mistakes and not actively start a new one (and if we do, nip it in the bud). The choice to start a new cycle will be there, but we have a choice to not allow for it to destroy us. There is hope for us in the real world, and I think the final panel of AoT also expresses that, just in a haunting way. 

[girl-among-mts]

Part Three

No matter how many summits or galas or ribbon-cutting ceremonies the Resistance had her attend, especially now that Leia had taken a step back from her leadership position, Rose still felt like the miner's daughter she was around so much glittery splendor.

The Senator’s suite, an elegant mix of creamy granite, black onyx, and gold, looked more like a palace than a penthouse.

She tried not to give away her discomfort, feeling severely austere in her practical, military uniform, as she followed Rey’s direction towards the immense window that overlooked the rest of the city. There, the General was taking in the view, hands clasped tightly behind his back over the long expanse of his greatcoat.

Rose looked around for the Solo, but he wasn’t to be seen.

So, that was his game, huh? Force them to make small talk?

Without turning towards her, Hux said, “Ah. Tico. Our host assures us he will be back momentarily.”

Curt, cold, and arrogant.

All the things that triggered her immediate dislike. Even if she didn’t already know his reputation.

Rose stepped up to the window, watching the storm churn the starless sky, ribbons of lightning breaking through dark, evening clouds.

“I guess there’s no point in re-introducing myself since you clearly remember me.”

Hux turned slightly, looking down his nose.

“But of course. How could one forget Leia’s rabid little engineer turned Commander?”

Rose clenched her jaw, making a concerted effort not to rise to every little snide comment he’d no doubt be making for the duration of their doomed little peace talks.

Then again, she *had* become quite notorious, especially after socking that one First Order Captain in the jaw during a negotiation gone sideways.

She’d only wished it would have been General Hux’s smug mouth she’d gotten a crack at instead.

Though up close, she had to admit, it would be a damn shame to break such a cruelly pretty face.

“Didn’t know I’d nabbed myself such a secret admirer, General,” she replied with measured humor. “Bet you even read my file before coming here, too.”

Hux’s pale green eyes narrowed, but she noticed a flush to his cheeks in the ambient light bouncing off the transparasteel window.

“No?” Rose cocked her head, enjoying needling him way more than was probably pertinent given the precariousness of the political situation. “That’s surprising. Would have thought a man like you does his research.”

A polite cough drew their attention before Hux could conjure up his next words.

As they turned, Senator Solo motioned towards a long table.

“I know it is late for both of you, but I believe ground rules for these negotiations should be set before we begin in earnest tomorrow. Shall we?”

Rose wondered just how much the Senator had heard, and what he’d made of it.

Without a word, Hux stalked past her toward the table, clearly agitated.

Perfect, she thought, following after.

Hux might have read her file, but she’d done the same. Given the right conditions, given the upper hand, the General was a calculating snake. Dangerous; especially when you didn’t see him coming.

But flustered?

Rose was sure /that/ might lead to something else entirely.

[flockrest]

spell out your url using song titles / then, tag as many people as there are letters in your url!

tagged by: @quillheel ( thanks bunches!! ♡ ) tagging: some of you have pretty long urls and i don't want to be annoying sldfkjd so whoever wants to do this! go for it, nab it from me!!

this was super fun to figure out! both as someone who runs a mumu and as someone who primarily listens to soundtracks and scores :'D i've included my thoughts on how the songs i ended up choosing would vibe with the blog since i don't have the luxury of highlighting lyrics, either through a specific muse-centric lens or just as a general thematic thing! i do cheat with some letters but. i think my input makes up for it. probably aslfkjsd

F. fire emblem main theme, as featured in the sounds from fire emblem Ø: horse and rider as one album. it's an understated rendition compared to the original, but i think that works in its favour because oh man. the way hope feels here...like. the way it's delivered? it's so sincere, it sounds like a hope built from the ground up! if i had to put a taste to this, it would be sweet! listen to how earnest that acoustic guitar sounds against the more grounded piano — i genuinely love this piece and do listen to it occasionally when writing!

L. ( the ) legendary hero, as featured in the legend of zelda: the wind waker. please just roll with the fact that i wanted to put a ww mention in here so badly that i stretched this far for it. "but ray, you've got—" shhh, that letter's reserved for another song. this track has nothing to do with the rito specifically, but it's very good storytelling music and is literally the bgm for narrative exposition slfkjdlf the kids would've been listening to Songs like this in their early childhood for sure :)

O. once there were dragons, as featured in how to train your dragon: the hidden world. i have many qualms with this movie, but damn if i don't have nothing but praise for its soundtrack. this one in particular recounts an entire story on its own, no explicit exposition needed even to the untrained ear. it's the telling of a legend in music motion, as the above track was, just in a different flavour! also it has test drive's, the flying theme of all time, leitmotif in there to cap it all off; i can't not endorse it on this blog!!

C. carlo's theme, as featured in guillermo del toro's pinocchio ( please appreciate the amount of self-restraint it took to not slot colgera's theme in here asflkjg ). the airy, fluttery sound texture at the beginning flowing into such a measured, charming melody...feels like a swell of love and longing at the same time! what i envision kido's theme would sound like, esp. in his botw era, if he had one.

K. kass' theme, as featured in the legend of zelda: breath of the wild. bonus extended cover. this was a no-brainer, if only because there aren't a lot of tracks i know that would vibe with this blog and start with "k" anyway sdflkd we love kass, all my homies love kass! also i only realised it this year, but there is a lovely little hint of rito village's theme in his own — it's way subtler than revali's homage, but it's sweet how kass' song basically starts the same way his home's does ♡

R. revali, ace archer and aviator, as featured in hyrule warriors: age of calamity. come on...you can't expect me to not fit in one of the blorbo's themes!! i'm so glad we got an extension of it in aoc...one that sounds so bombastically triumphant too? a fanfare compared to the more reflective piece in botw — which i do appreciate lots for how and what it adds to revali's narrative and character — but aoc's rendition is just. it sounds like him at his peak! and it speaks of such a definitively hopeful future for him...so what if i'm weak for a revali who gets to live, huh?? i love the tragedy of being doomed by the narrative as much as any other chump but so WHAT if i love the nobody dies-everyone lives route too!!

E. echoes, as featured in fire emblem echoes: shadows of valentia. the shortest piece on this list, but when i think or talk about dineli and his legacy, esp. regarding its presence in tulin's time, it's with these vibes. that sort of...emptiness, tinged with melancholy but also hope! no this was not the hardest letter for me to do, why do you ask

S. sea winds and travellers, as featured in the sounds from fire emblem Ø: go! go! summer tour album. aside from the perfect track name, the mellowness of this piece almost rivals that of rito village's theme itself?? how wonderful does this rendition sound! it's got a different harmonic colour to it, but the tones are so similar and convey that same feeling of warmth, wistfulness, and something like facing strife and pulling through anyway...it just feels like it'd be a good pick for the theme of, say, a migrating rito flock!

T. the apex of the world, as featured in fire emblem: three houses. see, i was going to cheat again and put tulin's theme or a tulin of rito village suite here, but oh man. this track! dineli vibes for his final battle!! what an evocative track name — the apex of the world, deep underground — and the major leitmotif sounds so charged with emotion; as i imagine the culmination of the imprisoning war would have been, no matter how lacklustre it seemed in canon retellings...okay, maybe this is more rauru-centric. but i'd love for people to listen to this anyway adlfkjls

[malicious-spectrum]

Psyche’s Psyche — Aftermath Pt. 1

Sorry, I’m shit at titles.

I’m gonna be doing a few of these fics where it’s the aftermath of where everything went to shit. (Red’s betrayal/Leander’s big reveal.)

Uh… Trigger warnings for mentions of death. Please tell me if I need to tell you guys anything else.

Lin sat down on the edge of the building’s roof, resting his arms on the rails. As he looked upon the candlelit city, he became… Tense. Was this really what he’s been missing all this time? What Psyche’s been trying to tell him was so beautiful? Purple buildings… Candlewax littering windowsills & incense assaulting his nose? That’s it?

Psyche approaches Lin, sitting down beside him.

Lin: You… Ok?

Psyche sniffed, his eyes red & puffy from tears.

Lin: Psy—

Psyche: I watched her die, Lin.

Lin’s eyes widened. It.. He can’t be talking about who he thinks Psy’s talking about… Right?? It can’t be, she’s too… Y’know what, yeah, fair, Mint’s equally likely to die.

Lin: Who… Who was it?

The archer didn’t respond. Instead, he just kept playing the scene over, & over in his head… Tears beginning to fall once more.

Psyche: It-It was Kitt, sh-she’s,, she was..

Lin placed his hand on Psyche’s shoulder, saddened.

Lin: Hey, take your time. If you don’t wanna talk about it… That’s fine too. Don’t force yourself to relive those memories.

Psyche: No… No! This is important. I have to t-tell you.

His friend glanced away, sighing.

Lin: No, really, it’s fine—

Psyche: R-Red killed her.

Lin couldn’t help but gasp.

Psyche: &-& stabbed Ditt’s eye & cut off dad’s- Leander’s- Leo’s- GAH, WHATEVER HIS STUPID NAME IS &… &… I’m just—

He cut himself off, breaking down into sobs. Psyche curled up into a ball, tears spilling onto the concrete below. Lin, unsure on what to do, just pats his back awkwardly.

Lin: It’ll be ok… Just let it all out… We’ll… We’ll figure all this out. I can help you avenge Kitt, if you want…

Psyche: I already- hic- checked with her. Sh-She wanted to avenge herself.

Lin: She… WHAT.

Psyche: K-Kitt’s alive. Onyx revived her. She’s… Not taking it well e-either.

Lin sighs, before chuckling.

Lin: Of course the Breath-Mint would want to avenge her own death. She wouldn’t go down without dragging everyone else with her.

Psyche stifled a laugh.

Psyche: Sh-She’d probably go down kicking & screaming only to come back & do it all over again. But… But she didn’t. Sh-She just… Was silent. No remarks. No sarcasm. Just trying to hold onto me to stand up properly, eventually… Bleeding out.

He stared Lin straight in the eyes, fearful.

Psyche: She died in… Basically my arms, Lin. I heard her soul shatter & shards fall to the ground & just… Silence. No wind. No breathing. No Red laughing… Laughing… GAH, DAMN IT, HER DAMN LAUGH KEEPS PLAYING IN MY HEAD LIKE A LAUGH TRACK & I CAN’T GET IT OUT.

He held his head, clutching his hair.

Psyche: I DON’T EVEN KNOW IF MY DAD IS EVEN A GOOD PERSON ANYMORE BECAUSE OF HER.

Lin: Psyche—

Psyche: & can you STOP telling me it’s gonna be ok?? It WON’T & we both KNoW it…

Psyche squeezed his eyes closed, pushing his palms against them. His hands tightened, some of his bangs stuck between his fingers.

Psyche: …I’m sorry. I really am, I just…

Lin: It’s fine, you don’t need to apologize. It’s… Kinda my fault any of this happened anyways.

Psyche: I-It was, wasn’t it…

Lin sighed, looking onto the city once more, before burying his eyes in his arms.

Lin: I wish I never agreed to Jinx’s stupid plan, with that stupid goo, & me being stupid bait.

Psyche: You didn’t know. It also wouldnt’ve happened without me following you, either. Or… Me being an idiot & thinking the twins were gonna destroy the city.

Lin: Looks like we’re both idiots then, huh?

Psyche: Idiots who doomed us all.

They both sighed.

Lin: You feeling any better?

Psyche: Not really. Maybe eventually… But not really.

Lin elbowed Psyche, grinning.

Lin: Hey, at least you know how it felt when you left Neon.

Psyche: Hey, you shouldn’t joke about our friendvorce, idiot!

He elbowed him back.

Lin: HAH, pick that word up from Mint?

Psyche: Pfft, you know I did.

The duo laughed, getting up to leave.

Psyche: Wanna go check on the twins? They’re getting medical attention over at Risk’s.

Lin: What about your dad?

Psyche: He’s… I’d… Rather avoid him right now. Let’s just say that he was hiding… A lot from us.

Lin: Ah… Waaaaaanna pick up some ice cream on the way? To cheer you up, obviously.

Psyche: Yeah.

He smirked, leaning his head on Lin’s shoulder as they walked.

Psyche: I’d like that..

[astrxlfinale]

Looks like things truly were working out for the better! Aside from a batted hand and a clear picture in the type of companion he'd be working with, the moment of gaining a genuine foothold in Liyue looks to be promising in nature.

Confidence as he is in what he can perform, the highest folly is to let that same energy breathe as the fine fires of arrogance.

"Hah! So style that as a shared quality then. Leaving things half done just promises a void in the head that no amount of good times can fill. So time we hit the road then!" Caelus declares, giving a lively shot of vigor to these halls meant to let the dead rest. Potential agitation or joy aside from those lost souls, the time would gradually pass from the recovering of that particular bounty, to the aftermath of Hu Tao's arrangements.

When the newest party members were seen once again, it's a long stretch of Liyuean wildlands surrounding them. The regions in itself hold a quiet pride, similar to the very Archon who shed their time, blood and untold scales of strife to mold these lands as a livable foothold for humanity. For the traveling Trailblazer, being upon the beaten paths were normalcy, it was as natural as breathing and it's carried in that carefree disposition he sports.

That said, there was still a part of this deal that had to be met for the traveling director by his side, 'nearly' out of eyesight thanks to their height difference.

"So, knowin' the clients down to the minute detail, huh?" Caelus begins, his lips quirked in a semi-amused smile. "Either you guys are the most meticulous about your product, or a strange situation winds up getting on the VIP list with you. I do wanna keep things even since you're stretchin your neck out so to speak."

"Liyue has been pretty solid.. er." There's a pause as he reflects the nation's home element, grunting softly as he brushes aside his bangs. "No damn pun intended on that! People out here are sporting to be polite n' making some big bank, kinda runs superfluous to me though. ..Outside that merchant end though? Y'all folks got some energy gunning for ya! I need to try more of that good grub so I can make a proper opinion, y'know how it goes~" He cheerily mentions, only to do an abrupt and sudden segway.

"I'm a train, a space train known as the Astral express. If I didn't have the synesthesia tech on me, we'd actually be doomed in ever understanding each other! How's that for the background story?" He mentions while doing a small case of finger guns towards Ms.Hu.

He was wholly prepared to be called crazy.

Now -that- was a reaction she had been hoping for. What sort of funeral director would she be if she couldn't give her clients a proper scare? Her lips curled up in a smirk before a pffted laugh spilt forth from her. Though it abruptly stopped when Caelus turned to quickly point an accusing finger right in her face. She blinked, sucking in her breath slightly.

"Aiyaaa...would you relaaax? ~" she remarking sighing out in a lighthearted tone, one of her hands reaching up to casually push the finger away from her face. "I was merely testing to see if you truly handle a place such a haunted place...."

"Andmaybeitwasforthehat" the last part slurred together in admittance to her exacting the revenge for earlier. Regardless, the trailblazer was right that they could call it even for now. Unless he'd brave at getting his own payback later on. Only time would tell with that.

She made a soft hum considering over his proposal, her gaze surveying the room as if she was making sure everything was still in order there. "Well, I'd have to make arrangements for the undertakers to watch the parlor and take care of the services here, but.." her focused turned back toward Caelus.

"I've been itching to go back to Wuwang Hill. I barely got to finish the ritual there the last time, and I'm afraid I cannot just leave it half assed like that." In truth she had been intending to return to the ghostly hill. It didn't feel right to leave it unattended in that manner of way. If she had someone at least keeping guard she could actually finish the cleansing rites.

It does take quite a while to travel there. Consider it a way in which you can tell me more about where you came from and how your time in Liyue has been so far? It's only reasonable to really get to know your clients so you can provide the best services"

[whalienjxy]

idk why this has been on my mind all morning but like

imagine you just exorcised a very fucking stubborn curse that almost put u six feet under. maybe it was intentional for u to be sent out on this mission on your own without satoru? you’re heaving, laying on your back on the verge of a panic attack because what the actual fuck just happened?

you succumb out of the veil, eyes wide as you watch the evaporating remainings of the monster a few feet away from you. you’re still on your back, crawling and crawling away, willing yourself to just get the fuck up and get far away from here.

you begin to cry, then, when the veil finally starts to disappear and you can see the night sky again. You try to get up to no avail, scared out of your mind, living and reliving the whole fight again in your brain like it was some kinda mantra just stuck in there.

you scream when something touches your shoulders, putting whatever is remaining of your strength to flinch away from whatever it is, but is just not enough. Against your weak struggle and raw sobs you are pulled in someones chest from behind, their arms wrapping around your middle firmly.

“I’m here now,” you hear him, and your eyes finally close. Your sobs get louder, fists now curling around the forearms around your stomach in fear. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay. You’ve done well. You’re safe now. You’re safe.”

gojo doesn’t raise his voice a pitch. He keeps it low and gentle and soft so your glass doesn’t crack further, but he knows it’s already shattered beyond repair. You shuffle closer hurriedly, getting on your knees to turn around and hide yourself away from the whole damn world in his chest, knuckles turning white from your firm grip on his uniform.

“‘toru…” you whimper, another sob rocking your whole body against his.

you’re thankful for his firm embrace around you. it’s grounding, squeezing all the pent up emotion right out of you as you cry and cry and cry because oh god you’re safe now. because that was fucking scary and you were on your own and you deserve to feel scared because as much of a sorcerer, you sure as hell still are a human being.

one of his hands is in your hair. “it was scary, huh?”

“s-suh…so fu-ucking scary,” you sob, and it does nothing but break his heart.

“You exorcised it, though,” gojo tells you. he begins to rock you both gently as you continue to empty your feelings tucked into his body like that. “you’ve done wonderfully, my little sorcerer. you’re so strong.”

his words do nothing but make you cry harder, and you don’t know where the tears keep coming from anymore. you’re no longer scared, you’re never scared when saturo is around, but it’s the fact that he’s finally here, and you feel safe again after god only know how many hours of a tireless fight for your life.

gojo looks at the trashed field where you almost met your doom only a few minutes ago with fire in his chest. he is still rocking you left and right, you begin to calm down gradually, and he thinks of all the things he is going to do in his little visit to the higher ups for sending you here on your own.

“always so strong. always making me the proudest i can be.”

[moonbeamwritings]

the friendship bracelet bombshell

wc: 4.5k

enjoy the playlist while you read

no warnings! just some good ol’ idiots to lovers, mutual pining, and the bakusquad being good friends

It all started with a friendship bracelet. This takeout-fueled, video game-interrupting downward spiral has all been caused by weaved bits of string in Denki’s favorite colors. Every time he looks at it, stewing about its implications, he wants to hurl.

He’s had a crush on you for months now, friendship gradually morphing into something more until suddenly his recently played on Spotify is filled with friends to lovers playlists and every meme on his for you page is about being in love with your best friend. And Denki can’t help it, really he can’t. You’re so warm, so kind, that he felt drawn to you from the very beginning. Now he stares at the bracelet on his wrist, a flurry of unanswered questions and what-ifs swirling through his mind. He’s doomed.

“Sero,” Denki whines, head tipped back against the couch and body slumped into the cushions. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

As Denki’s (other) best friend, Sero has heard it all, has been with Denki through every phase of his crush on you. In the mushy stage, Denki couldn’t go two seconds without fixing you with this disgusting, starry-eyed, lovesick look (He still can’t, and Sero doesn’t hesitate to remind him of this fact), complimenting you any chance he got. The pining stage quickly followed. A non-stop thrill ride of yearning and late-night phone calls where Sero endured waxed poetic about how badly Denki wanted to date you or how you’d brushed hands on your walk to the café down the street from your apartment. The final, and most miserable, phase of them all is something Sero lovingly calls the insecurity phase. Any confidence that Sero thought Denki had has disappeared in the wake of the uncertainty and unresolved feelings that crushes often bring. The result has been catastrophic, with Denki second-guessing every smile and every text. Sero firmly believes that this damn friendship bracelet is the beginning of the end. A bomb is about to go off, and he’s sitting at the point of impact, a PlayStation controller in one hand and his phone in the other.

Denki’s in love with you, that much is nauseatingly clear, and if he knew even half the gossip that Mina has so graciously supplied over the last month, he’d know you feel the same. It’s amazing, Sero thinks as he steels his nerves to deal with more of Denki’s whining, how two people can be so utterly clueless.

“What am I supposed to do now? This is the last straw, the final nail in the coffin! I think I might just die.”

Sero stares longingly at the looping menu screen on the TV, desperately wishing they could go back to the game. How did he even end up here? “You know this doesn’t mean they don’t like you, right?”

Denki’s head snaps up from the back of the couch, betrayal setting firmly across his face. “It’s a friendship bracelet, Hanta. It’s in the name!” He emphasizes the word friendship with a flourish of the offending bracelet, waggling it in Sero’s direction.

Despite the annoyance bubbling beneath the surface, Sero knows he needs to approach this situation with the utmost delicacy, lest Denki start to spiral even further. “Denki,” he says calmly, though he can’t stop a sigh from escaping his lips. “Dude, relax. I’ve told you a million times that I think they like you back.”

Sero’s phone buzzes in his hand, and he spares a glance to check the notification.

< mina: these two are idiots 🙄 >

< sero: you’re telling me >

“Well, did they tell you that?”

The question pulls Sero away from his phone. “Huh?” Well, you told Mina and Mina told him, so…. Kind of? Sero can’t tell Denki that, though. “I mean no, but their crush on you is about as obvious as yours is on them.”

“If I mess this up by telling them when I don’t know for sure,” There’s a serious edge to Denki’s tone that makes the other man shudder, “then I can kiss our friendship goodbye.” A beat of silence, and then, “And I’m not willing to do that. I just- I’m just not.”

A train ride away, your night is going much the same way, lamenting over the grave mistake you call a friendship bracelet. The incident with the bracelet has loomed over every conversation Mina has had with you over the last week. She’s heard it all — the worries about punting Denki directly into the friend zone, the plan to give everyone a bracelet to make things less awkward (She shut that down almost as quickly as the words left your mouth). She has one of your hands in her own, trying and failing to paint your nails. You talk with your hands, especially when you’re stressed, and it’s making her job that much harder. 

“Mina, what if I just completely friendzoned him? I mean, it’s in the name.”

“Then tell him how you feel! Clear the air, ya know?”

You huff, almost offended. “Well, I can’t do that!”

When your hand comes to rest on the table, much like a tiger awaiting its prey, Mina pounces. She locks your hand in her own, nail polish brush poised in the other. She refuses to tell you the obvious, refuses to just spit out that the poor blonde is disgustingly, embarrassingly down bad for you; that’s for you to find out on your own, but this back and forth game is getting exhausting. What more coaxing could she and Sero possibly do? She wonders, briefly, if you and Denki are simply doomed to be clueless, lovesick morons for the rest of your days, pining after one another until one of you dies (or gets over it, whichever comes first). But, being the hopeless romantic she is, Mina can't resign herself to the fact that maybe it won’t work out after all. She’ll coax and prod until her throat runs dry if she has to. And, if the situation gets truly desperate, she’ll just tell you Denki’s in love with you. Plain and simple. She’d like for that to come from him, though, so for now, she’ll bite her tongue.

Mina swipes the color (a shade of yellow that looks suspiciously like a certain electrified hero’s hair) along your nail. “Why not?”

“I-, I don’t wanna fuck it up, ya know?” 

The pink-haired girl nods, listening intently.

“If I tell him, and it goes poorly, then he won’t want to be my friend anymore, and that’s, like, the worst possible outcome.”

Mina blinks at you like she’s in disbelief that someone could be so dumb. “You and Denki are friends, right? Like, good friends?”

You nod hesitantly. The two of you are good friends, best friends even, though the radio silence you’ve endured over the last few days thanks to that bracelet don’t exactly reflect that sentiment. Denki makes you feel heard, seen in ways you’re convinced you’ve never experienced before. He’s a shoulder to cry on, someone to confide in. You think about the late nights spent giggling at your phones in the darkness of your bedroom, about the photos throughout your camera roll of the two of you, smiling or pulling goofy poses or being close, emotionally and physically. Yes, you think as an ache settles in your joints. Good friends.

She stops what she’s doing to pin you beneath her signature judgmental gaze, one you’ve only seen directed at Kirishima for his taste in shoes or Denki for his impulsive decisions. The sight of it fixed on you for once sends a shiver down your spine. “So explain to me why something like this would ever make him not want to be your friend.”

“What if he thinks I’m weird? What if it makes things more awkward than they already are?”

A comment slips past her lips about Denki being the last person allowed to judge anyone else for being weird before her expression softens. “Baby, you know I love you, and I’m only saying this because I do, okay?” She waits for you to nod before adding, “But you’re dense if you think Denki would treat you any differently for that.”

Your friend watches you think over her words, like you’re examining and picking them apart in your brain. You sigh, hand going limp in her hold. “I know.” The apartment stills, silence only filled with the playlist Mina has on shuffle. You refuse to meet her gaze when you tell her, “I’m just... scared.”

Mina frowns. “It’s okay to be scared. Love is kinda scary, but I think you owe it to yourself, and Denki, to do something about it.” She rubs a thumb over your knuckles, and you feel lucky to have such supportive friends. “I hate seeing you upset.”

“Let’s just,” you deflate, focusing on the bottles of nail polish lined up in front of you, “forget about it for tonight, okay?”

She nods, and goes back to painting. When she’s done, and with your nails now dry enough that you can use your hands again, the two of you have a true, veg out sleepover night, watching videos and eating snacks to your hearts’ content. That night, you fall asleep with your head on Mina’s shoulder, some shitty comedy playing out on the TV in front of you.

< mina: we need to do something about this >

Sero’s response is immediate, a text with a photo attached of Denki morosely fiddling with the strings on his guitar.

< sero: agreed. >

“We could…” Mina taps her foot, chin resting in her hand as she thinks over a potential course of action. “lock them in a closet?”

“That’s too close to kidnapping for my taste.” Sero fires back, dunking a fry in some ketchup.

“Ooo,” Kirishima lights up, “we could set up a mistletoe!”

“Mmm, that’s good!”

“It’s not even December.” Sero adds, tone deadpan.

An annoyed groan brings the conversation to a grinding halt. “What does it matter anyway? Let the two idiots pine.”

“But Bakugou,” Mina complains petulantly, “they’re so in love it hurts.”

“That shit’s none of my business.”

“But they’re our friends, remember?”

Kirishima smirks, knowing just how to push the blond’s buttons to get him in on the action. “And if we help them get together, they won’t be annoying about the pining anymore.”

Bakugou scoffs. “Then they’ll just be an annoying couple.”

“Which is worse?”

A hush falls over the table as Bakugou considers his options. The two of you have been so goddamn annoying the past few months, stewing over your crushes and making it everyone else’s problem. But he knows if you get together, the pining will just turn to... mush, and then he’ll have to watch your honeymoon phase in full technicolor. At least, he thinks, the two of you would be happy then.

He throws his hands up, fork clattering across the table with the force of it, a scowl pulling his brows together. “Damn it. Fine, the pining is worse.”

“Okay,” Sero interjects, “so what’s the plan?”

The plan is a simple, and stupid, one. One only a group of desperate friends could come up with.

On Thursday night, the four of them light up the group chat with frantic texts about movie night and pizzas (and brownies, Kirishima adds excitedly) on Saturday. And then they wait. They wait for the two of you to agree, for Denki to offer up his apartment as the hangout spot — he’s the one with the best TV (and the comfiest couch), after all. They wait for the pieces to fall into place, for the two of you to back yourselves into hanging out with the promise of your entire friend group there as a buffer.

And then, as conspiring friends do, they each perfectly craft their excuses to back out.

< sero: oh no i totally forgot i have patrol on saturday >

That afternoon, another text comes in. 

< mina: you guyysss i told kyoka and ochako i’d see that new movie with them... i committed weeks ago 😓 >

Then on Saturday, another.

< kirishima: stuck at the agency doing paperwork 😩 >

And Bakugou, ever the wordsmith, puts the final nail in the coffin

< bakugou: I can’t make it. >

You deflate with each text as it comes in, dread seeping in and tainting the excitement that had been buzzing beneath your skin over the last few days. You text Mina, suspecting that this was her doing, that she’d pulled strings and got everyone in on the scheme to make a fool out of you. She assures you, half-heartedly, that she had nothing to do with it. It was all coincidence.

And on Saturday night as you stand in your kitchen, eyeing the freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies cooling on the counter top, you sigh.

< hey! i know everyone bailed, but do you still wanna hang? >

You so desperately want Denki to say no, so you stare at the chat until the three little dots signifying that he’s typing pop up — as if staring will force his refusal into existence. But Denki, poor, sweet, innocent Denki, can never say no to you.

< denki: i’m still down if you are! i’ve got pizza waiting on the counter :-) >

So with a sigh, you allow the cookies to cool before you plop them all in a container and make your way down to the train.

You’ve made the trek to Denki’s apartment so many times that the familiar path sends you into autopilot, allowing you to shut your brain off, if only for a moment. You walk down the street five blocks, take the train three stops, then head up a few blocks from the station and you’re there. Snapping back into reality only when your fist raises to rap against his door, you barely have time to breathe before you see him.

The moment the door opens you’re met with Denki — his hair tousled and eyes a little sleepy. It’s disarmingly cute, and you have to stop yourself from admitting as much. You notice, much to your amusement, that one pant leg sits higher than the other, exposing his mismatched socks. The sleeves of his sweatshirt hang over his fingers. God, you’re fucked.

Unbeknownst to you, Denki is thinking much the same thing. Seeing you, all cuddled up in your comfy clothes, a container of cookies in hand, unlocks something deep in the back of his brain. Something he’s been trying so hard to just ignore. Your cheeks are pink from the cold, hair a little messy from the breeze outside, and when you smile, Denki’s heart stutters in his chest. God, he’s so screwed.

It takes a second for him to find his footing, but when he does, he spits out, “C’mon in! The pizza’s getting cold.” As you toe off your shoes and shrug out of your jacket, he lingers by the door, weight shifting nervously. “It’s um- it’s nice to see you. I feel like we haven’t hung out just the two of us in forever!”

The comment disarms you, and you’re thankful your back is to him. Your heart hammers in your chest. You’ve been avoiding him, and he’s noticed. Sending that text was a mistake. Your voice is bright, airy, as you reply, “I know right!”

As you move into the kitchen, stealing a slice of pizza before collapsing on his couch, he adds, “I was honestly a little surprised you texted. I thought the whole thing was gonna be off.” He chuckles awkwardly when he sinks into the cushions beside you.

You shrug, a smile lifting your lips at the corners without thinking. “Well, I couldn’t miss an opportunity to see you.” You risk a glance in Denki’s direction to find he’s smiling too, his cheeks a pretty pink color. “And besides, who can say no to pizza?”

Around a mouthful of the food in question, he replies, “You know I can’t.”

Conversation flows easily, harmlessly, between you as you eat, and for a moment you trick yourself into thinking everything is normal, that you don’t have an annoyingly big crush on your best friend. That is, until he gingerly takes the plate from your grasp and throws it away for you. He flicks off the kitchen light and the living room falls into darkness.

“Hold on, I’ll-” he turns on the string lights that sit behind the couch. “How’s that?”

The incessant thumping of your heart travels into your ears and your face feels warm as he joins you on the couch again. You’re making it awkward, you know you are. You can feel it in the way your body stiffens when his fingers just barely brush against the outside of your thigh. You’ve been in this exact situation a million times before — on the couch in close proximity to Denki, the room bathed in the soft glow of the lights he’d so meticulously strung up — so why, now, does it all have to be so hard? So overwhelming? In a way, you wish things were different. You don’t want to tell Denki, not really, but the pressure of your unspoken feelings is starting to crush you.

“You okay?”

“Oh yeah!” You force a smile, “All good.”

Denki’s unimpressed. “You know I can tell when you’re lying, right?”

You sigh, defeated. “Yeah.”

“Sooo,” he prompts, bumping his knee into yours. “What’s on your mind?”

“Have you ever liked someone so much you feel like you can’t be normal about it? Like, at all?”

Yes. Fuck yes. About you, Denki thinks. “Yeah,” he responds casually, slinging an arm across the back of the couch. “I think I know what you mean.”

“There’s this guy…” Denki’s heart sinks, but he says nothing. “... and I feel like I really messed up, ya know?”

He hangs onto your every word, nodding along as if he’s hearing a sacred secret. In a way, to him, he is.

“Like, we’re really good friends, and I like him so much, but I just-” Your hand flops helplessly into your lap. “I don’t know what to do.”

Denki speaks before he can tell himself to zip it. “Any guy would be lucky to have you! I mean-” A hand comes up to nervously rub at the nape of his neck. His cheeks flush scarlet. “You’re just… you’re great. And he’d be an idiot if he couldn’t see that.” After a beat of silence and despite the ache in his chest, Denki smiles and forces out, “You should tell him!”

You fiddle with the friendship bracelet on your own wrist, and Denki realizes that the pattern matches his own. He feels like he’s running a marathon with the way his heart thunders against his ribcage, with how much adrenaline pumps through his veins.

“I kind of already did.”

You’re adorably sheepish, and Denki’s mind struggles to catch up. He searches your face for an answer, and when he doesn’t find one, you supply, “Denki, it’s you.”

“Oh. Oh?” His brows furrow in disbelief, and his head tilts to one side. He whispers, “Me?” A finger points at his own chest.

“You.” You tell him resolutely. “It’s been driving me crazy.”

With the sweet, sweet confirmation that Sero has been right all along (Denki does not want to hear him say I told you so), Denki splits into a grin. Firing your own words back at you, he replies, “I haven’t been normal about you in months.”

“Months?”

“The friendship bracelet did me in.” He admits. “I felt like I was making one of those detective boards with all the red strings. I’d liked you for months and then you tied the bracelet on me and all I could think was, ‘Damn, I really hope they didn’t just friend zone me.’”

You open your mouth, both to speak and to gape at him like a fish fighting for air, but he cuts you off.

“Not that being friend zoned is bad or anything. I love being your friend, like, a lot, but like-”

You facepalm. “Denki, I was so thoroughly convinced that you thought that I’d friend zoned you. You should’ve heard my rants to Mina. I thought making everyone a bracelet would’ve made it better.”

Denki shakes his head. “I think that would’ve actually killed me.”

You look at him, really look at him and despite the embarrassment of how long, how drawn out, all of this was, you can’t help but giggle. “We really are the group idiots, huh?”

He sighs, a chuckle of his own ringing through the air to match yours. “I think this proves it.”

Fiddling with the fabric of the cuff of your hoodie, Denki can’t seem to force out the one question that lingers on the tip of his tongue.

“What is it?” You ask affectionately, your hand closing over his. “You look so… pensive all of a sudden.”

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, testing the water. His tone is so unlike him, so quiet and unsure like he’s afraid, after everything, you’ll pull the rug from under him. Like you’ll deny him, even now. “Please?”

And despite the mounting nerves that settle in your lungs and the tingling feeling in the tips of your fingers, you nod. “Yeah.”

Denki’s hands are soft, tentative where they curl around your hip and settle on your jaw. Silence swirls in the air for a heartbeat, and then two, before he’s leaning in. You’re so shocked, so wrapped up in how much has changed in only a few minutes' time, that when his lips finally press to yours, it takes you a moment to react. It’s chaste, a featherlight touch of skin against skin, and when you manage to finally scramble enough brain cells together to kiss back, Denki’s head tilts, he presses closer. He smiles against your lips as the hands on your skin curl tighter, pulling you in. You’re chest to chest, your hands fisted into the plush material of his hoodie, when a moan, light and airy, unceremoniously leaves your mouth. In an instant, embarrassment floods each of your senses, and you’re left with your eyes wide and face feeling too hot. Your lungs heave as you fight the urge to hide your face in your hands.

“Oh my god.” Your heart is hammering as you look at him. “Don’t- I didn’t-” You can’t explain the sound away; you know you can’t. A sound like that can never truly be unheard. God, you want to die. “Pretend you didn’t hear that. Oh my god.”

Denki’s cheeks are pink as his gaze flickers from your eyes to your lips. “I can’t. I won’t. It’s in my brain forever.”

“Well, take it out!”

“I can’t!” He smirks, one hand mindlessly playing with the hair at the nape of your neck, as if to soothe your bruised ego. It’s not working. “Not when I’ve been practically dying to hear a sound like that from you for, like, ever now.”

Your face burns even more at the admission and you groan, shoving your face into the crook of his neck. “Just, please, stop talking. For the sake of my mental health.”

“I didn’t even really do anything,” Denki muses, facial expression dipping into something more pensive as he replays the moment in his brain. Yup, definitely never letting that sound go.

“Denki,” you plead, “cut it out.”

A hand runs down the expanse of your back and up again. Up and down. Up and down. “Fine, fine. I’ll stop.”

You can feel his lips curl against the crown of your head. You know you won’t live this down for a long time, if ever. Your eyes clench shut as you inwardly cringe at the thought. Great. A kiss to your hair distracts you enough to pull your head from his neck, forcing you to look at him fully.

Denki’s grin is boyish, like the cat that got the cream, as he examines you carefully, eyes flickering to each of your features before finally, resolutely, he kisses the tip of your nose. “Is it too early to tell you I love you? Too cheesy?”

You hum, eyes closing as his palm rests against the apple of your cheek. “We’ve been saying we love each other for years.” It’s not a lie, but it’s not the full truth either. Those I love you’s had been laden with unspoken confessions and platonic affection as of late, morphing their meanings into something different, something with more weight.

“Fine,” he relents, kissing your other cheek. “Then can I tell you I’m in love with you? Is that okay?”

You think for a moment. You think about the tender way he holds you, the way he’s always held you. You reflect on the times he’d dried your tears or led you home to safety after a night of drinking, his hand in yours. You think about the sweet, delicate way he says your name, how he looks at you as if you’re the only person in any room.

You think about Denki, everything that he is and everything he will be, and you decide, voice resolute and eyes blinking open to take in the full vision of his face. “Yes,” Your hand comes to rest over his and you squeeze his fingers, “but only if I can say it, too.”

Denki attacks your face in kisses with big, exaggerated smacking sounds, leaving wet kiss marks all over the skin of your forehead, across each of your cheeks. Your giggles fill the room, and they only seem to spur him on, smooching you even more fervently. He guides you back onto the cushions of the couch and when he pulls away, your ribs ache from how much you’ve been laughing. Your cheeks hurt from your splitting grin.

He presses one final kiss to that grin, one of his own tugging at the corners of his lips. He’s barely moved an inch when, for the first time, he mumbles, “I’m in love with you.”

You don’t hesitate to say it back.

And as you finally tuck into the couch, cuddled close together as a couple this time, Denki’s arm curls around your shoulders. When you reach up to hold his hand, you stop to inspect the friendship bracelet that started this whole mess. You trace the pad of your finger over its tiny ridges before you lace your fingers together.

“Should we tell the others?” Denki asks as the movie’s title pops on screen.

“Nah,” you tell him, squishing your cheek into his shoulder. “We can tell ‘em in the morning.”

The next morning, when you venture to the breakfast place down the street, you send a selfie in the group chat. Denki is crowding your space, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek. You’re giggling. It’s clear the air between you has changed. Something has shifted.

< denki: i beat the friend zone allegations once and for all!!!!! >:) >

And with a chorus of finally’s sounding off in the chat, Denki kisses you again, ready to devour some pancakes with his best friend.