#he needs legitimate help and he’s even trying to change himself

[rafeyscumangel]

YOU GET IT 👏👏

not only that, but Rafe just needs someone kind and comforting, someone who will support him and look past his flaws, someone who’ll see him for who he is. He’ll cherish that person because so little people do that. So little people can actually see who he is, too caught up in their own self to look past his exterior and actually try to see the reason for his behaviour. Why would he want you to hurt that person? make it make sense

"yeah I don't think rafe would be a loving soft boyfriend at all." Nono, yeah I get tha– B-B-BLOCKED.

rafe has spent his entire life chasing love and acceptance. loving and soft is exactly what he'd be. he's spent his entire life making everyone afraid of him because it was the only way people would answer to him. but he wants his one sweet girl to never be afraid of him no matter what. he wants to project the love onto you that he spent forever yearning for but was always out of reach.

I personally think he'd adore someone a little younger, maybe a little ditzy and js wants to be babied all the time because I think rafe would js want someone to look up at him with huge eyes and be all like "you're so amazing" because it would mean the absolute world to him if someone would just see him as this brilliant thing instead of someone getting in the way of everything and fucking everything up (ward think of me as ur personal hate page)

rafe would one thousand percent never even so much as want to raise his voice at you because he can't bear the thought that the one person in the whole world who truly loves him and looks up to him like he's this beacon of light could ever be scared of him.

therefore, I rest my case.

[krems-chair]

Don't mind me, just revisiting the plot (again) and dying over this line (again). (These screenshots are going to be abysmal, but you'll get the point).

"To stop now would dishonor those I have wronged to come this far."

Yeah he's talking about Mythal (earned or not) and Felassan and Lavellan and Varric...but the way it applies to HIM, too, is what absolutely guts me.

Long post ahead...

Solas realizing that Lavellan doesn't care about how others see him or want to use him under the inquisiton, that HIS motivations as he has shared them are enough for her and worth defending against those who would tell him he's something he isn't. Solas, for the first time, being confronted with the realization that one these new elves he does not see himself in will still go to bat for him.

(Is he duplicitous? Yes. But intent on working against Corypheus? Undoubtedly).

"You came here to help, Solas, I won't let them use that against you."

“How would you stop them?”

“However I had to.”

“...thank you.”

Solas grappling with the fact that it wasn't just a one off, that this Dalish woman being faced with "hypotheticals" he's desperately been trying to get her people to entertain is jumping in head first, pushing back and disagreeing with him but never treating him worse for their differences and always admitting when he's helped shape a changing perspective. Solas daring to ask for help and marveling at the fact that he receives it, that the same woman who asked if it might some day be possible to live alongside spirits, who did not immediately shoot down his critique of THE CHANTRY REFUSING TO ACKNOWLEDGE SPIRITS AS LEGITIMATE BEINGS (GAH), who did not laugh at him for saying he preferred their company most days, this woman, is going to drop time and resources during war time preparations to personally help his friend.

And then, when he is too late and has once again failed someone he considers a friend, he disappears within himself, where he has always gone to exact punishment for the weight of the lives he believes he's betrayed. It almost works, too.

Psych. Lavellan doesn't want him to grieve alone, to stare at the place in the Fade where his friend used to be and think of all he should have done differently.

“The next time you have to mourn, you don’t need to be alone.”

“It’s been so long since I could trust someone.”

“I know.”

“I’ll work on it. And thank you.”

But does she stop there? No. She doesn't chafe at this random apostate who speaks with certainty and unapologetically delves into a past he believes worth preserving, even at the cost of questioning her culture as it currently stands.

The very woman he once thought of as a mistake that HE unleashed upon the world is asking to be a part of his, not because of what he can bring to the table, not because she needs a right hand man, and certainly not because she thinks he has some well of power and intelligence critical to winning over enemies she’s willing to join for "supervisory" purposes (cough cough hi Mythal). She bears the weight of choices that can and will lead to death, to pain, and when it wears on her she relies on him, not for solutions but so that at the end of it all she might smile with someone who knows her heart and the good she tried to do amidst a sea of terrible options. She wants to be known, no inch of her unturned, and worse, she thinks she knows him. But how could she? This is no longer who he is, it is merely the remnants of what he destroyed to make a world at Mythal's whim.

And still she unbalances him, accepts him, wants more. Solas is sharing a personality that brings him the closest he has ever been to his spirit form, and it is ENOUGH for her. Existing as he has always dreamt of is all takes to earn her loyalty, respect, and eventually love.

“You’re an admirable man. Not many people know who they are the way you do.”

“Thank you. Both for saying that and…for seeing that. Few in this world can see me instead of just seeing a pair of pointed ears”

She. Sees. Him. Every part he slowly is realizing he wants to be known for and even a few he thought he could hide. And then he gives it all up. Because he woke to a new world where spirits and elves and mages were so far removed from the role they played in Arlathan that it can only be yet another mistake he caused and must fix, never mind the fact that the dwarves have forgotten why they fled underground millennia ago in the first place.

The friend who tore him from the world he loved, urged him to take physical form? She is dead, too, never mind the fact that she ignored his urging for a different path, nevermind that he killed and tore and hurt in her name because otherwise what was losing the part of himself he loved for?

"A spirit becomes a demon when denied its original purpose.”

“It hurts. It always does, but I will survive.”

“You bound it to obedience, then commanded it to kill. That is when it turned.”

He may no longer recognize where the Dread Wolf ends and where Solas begins, but if he gives up now and permits himself the chance to remember, the pain he caused himself and others means nothing, because he did it all for Mythal and in his final discussion with her, regardless of what Veilguard tries to convey, she does not release him from his position as her agent.

And maybe that's part of why I'm so angry, because EVEN BEFORE TRESPASSER, the fragment of Mythal that ends up in Morrigan could have freed him, but she does not.

"The failure was mine," he tells her, voice trembling. "I should pay the price."

Silence.

"I am sorry." He whispers.

And do we get that "what we did, we did together" psuedo-fake ass-absolution, the one that, if given enough time and safety to put himself first he may have realised he doesn't truly need to pursue the things he deserves, that make him feel finally like himself again? No the fuck we don't.

"As am I, old friend." She murmurs.

Looking through the lens of Veilguard, this isn't an apology, it's a condemnation. It's Mythal tormenting him one more time, twisting the knife deeper, agreeing that it is Solas alone who has brought them to this point, who deserves to be punished. And then she reminds him what they are to each other, what he is supposed to be to her. What he must become again.

"It isn't abuse if I ask," Cole says in his personal quest.

"Not always true," Solas shoots back.

Var lath vir suledin. Our love will persevere.

I wish it could, vhenan.

And so he pushes onwards, spending almost a decade denying himself his true nature and regretting that he ever gave it a chance to come through because now he KNOWS that this world is different and a little broken, but it's a world he could be a part of because of the woman and the friends that made a place for him. It is a world that doesn't necessarily need to be restored as much as it might need renovation, but that is not the world Mythal demanded of him when she let him kill a remaining piece of her. And any solution but that means the hurt of taking a body, of hurting the titans, of time and time again being called on by one evanuris to fix a problem they all caused, was for nothing.

And a Pride of that magnitude, that sinister an origin, has a long, long way to fall.

So he recommits to the friend he gave up his nature for, he refuses to let himself remember that Lavellan learned the full truth of his identity and still begged him not to mourn alone. Even so, he still cannot quite forget.

He kills again. He kills again. He kills again.

He kills a friend.

He fails to prevent the Evanuris from wreaking havoc a second time, wrenches another innocent into his war, and when they ask him about the woman he calls vhenan, he feels the mask stifling him begin to suffocate. But he never lets it fall, because to surrender now is to place her broken heart atop the pile of regrets he's been holding up like Atlas crumbling beneath the weight of the world itself. Because he still thinks it selfish to want the things that make him feel like himself again, so they need to be taken off the board entirely.

And then that same uppity little shit has the audacity to tell him it's not too late, that he can turn back.

"To stop now would dishonor those I have wronged to come this far."

If he gives up now, his entire corporeal life has been a betrayal of many, but worst of all, he will have ruined himself for nothing.

But then she's there. A little older, a little sadder, and still looking at him like she did the night he almost broke and instead carefully removed any suggestion that she had ever belonged to anyone but herself.

"Didn't you hear me?" Her every action screams as she kneels to meet his gaze like he did the day he took her arm (another failure, another sacrifice he cannot let be for nothing).

The tombstone in the fade is his greatest fear, but it is not his fate. Why? She will not let it be. It cannot be his din'anshiral if she is not beside him.

Lavellan may not have understood the depth of exactly WHEN Solas first came somewhere foreign and uncertain to help, but she never once failed to keep her promise. She refuses to let his initial desire to do good be held against him any longer. And when she sees him accept that not-quite-absolution-definitely-more-of-a-power-play from the god that saw what he was capable of and molded him into a weapon, she finds her in to make sure he doesn't walk off alone to mourn again, never again will she lose him to the expectations others have of him. No doubt she wants to find a way to sink the fingers of her good hand into that spectral visage and tear it away like he wishes to do to the veil. But she is not here for Mythal. She is here for her heart, and for the man who has been carrying it since the moment her lips met his in the fade ten years ago.

“No orders to kill, no conflict with its nature, no demon.”

"There is no fate but the love we share." She tells him as soon as Mythal's too-little-too-late platitudes send shudders through his body.

Banal nadas ar lath'ma vhenan.

She forces him to see that the only remaining betrayal is to lock himself away one more irreversible time. All that's left to lose is the piece of himself he cherishes more than his greatest victories: all that he has to gain comes from making sure the love that was given to him at Skyhold, in the moment where Varric saw all he was capable of and still tried to bring him back home, was not given in vain.

It will not be so terrible a place, so unforgivable a betrayal if he can finally dare to put himself first. If, unlike that night in Crestwood, he finally gives in not to break, but to make himself whole.

There's a codex entry in Inquisiton about a spirit of wisdom who is summoned by researchers and only after a very pleasant conversation do they realize they made a mistake and never successfully bound the spirit in the first place, that it chose to speak with them of its own accord.

"I am not certain the spirit would have talked so freely had it been shackled at the time," writes the author of the entry.

I keep thinking about this alongside the datamined line of Morrigan saying, "And so, the Dread Wolf is stopped by, of all things love."

But that isn't quite right, is it?

Because in the end, of course the Dread Wolf could only ever freed by, over everything, love.

[sugarverse]

Heyy beautiful (with rizz) I was wondering if you could do a jjk boys one where the user gets box braids and looks damn fine and obviously itadori just thinks her hair grew really fucking fast and is confused perhaps?

𝙗𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙝𝙖𝙞𝙧 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨!

[ jjk headcanons ]

ft. itadori, fushiguro, inumaki, & okkotsu

★ i. yuji

Yuji often calls you Rapunzel when your braids are in the middle of your back or lower. He loves when you get it freshly done and the sunlight catches it just right with the product making it look shiny. He also asks if you could heal him with all that hair, often wanting to touch it or twirl it around just because

He also loves watching you do it, whether it's your natural hair or not. Whenever he knows you’re about to do it, he’ll sit to the side and ask you about everything you pick up. “What’s that stuff do? Is that what makes it look so soft?” He tilts his head like a lost puppy when he asks, but you make sure to be patient with him. 

Deeper into the relationship, when your hair isn’t in braids or down he always seems to notice the change. He’s always genuinely curious about different styles, having seen you put your hair into puffs and so on. “Those look amazing y/n!! … What are they?” He gets so close, inspecting you like a damn detective. You’ll tell him it’s twists or when it’s cornrows with different designs rather than box braids, you explain the difference, and he sits with listening ears on and the biggest grin on his face.

Speaking of different styles, he loves seeing you try different things. He always encourages you to get whatever you want, from bantu knots to a silk press. He’s by your side the entire time, saying dorky things like “Your hair basically has its own personality, ya know, It’s like medusa. But in a cool way!” He tries to help you when you’re doing it yourself, but often gets too confused and just lends you an ear so you aren’t bored as you’re doing it.

He also likes binging different movies when you have time to focus on it as you’re doing your hair. He doesn’t want to play games because then his attention will be centered around that. He’ll put on something like “Human Earthworm 5”, pop some popcorn, bring in some drinks and feed you as you watch. More often than not, he’ll pick up some chinese food or a pizza before coming over to make a whole night out of it.

He also finds it irresistible when you flip your hair back to brush it, put hairspray in it, or even to put it up in a high ponytail. Sometimes he’ll mimic you, fake combing his long hair and swishing it around as if to show you the ‘inches’ to his pink hair. He always has a scrunchie on his wrist since hairties get caught up in your curls. If you guys are out eating and you have nothing to put your hair up with, he’s got your back.

✩ f. megumi

Similar to yuji, When he first notches the significant change in your length/color in your hair, he looks authentically perplexed. “Did.. Did you change your hair? Like all of it?” His voice didn’t sound judgmental in the slightest, but it was full of legitimate confusion. He then went to ask how you grew it so fast… but when you laughed in his face he just gave you that 😐 look. You explain how coarse your hair is and how braids can work, and that you didn’t suddenly grow 5 inches in the week he hasn't seen you.

He’s also confused at the number of bottles and jars you need to maintain it. When he came over to study, he saw the sheer amount of hair products on your desk and almost felt overwhelmed by everything. “Do you.. Use all this?” He asks almost to himself, thinking it was nosey to be looking over all your stuff. Contrary to belief, you had no problem with it. 

You explained the groups of products and what they all did. Why you need gel and curling cream etc. He nods along, scratching the back of his neck at the end and feeling underwhelmed about everything he used, but it’s not like his hair needed much upkeep.

When you get a silk press for the first time in front of him and it fucking rains days after??? You were PISSED (as one should be) You didn’t have a hoodie that wouldn’t make it frizzy so when he asked to hang out and you told him you couldn’t go out there while it was storming, he thought you were pulling his leg. He came over with an umbrella, although that didn’t stop the sideways rain from soaking one side of his body. You opened the door, sighing softly as he tilted his head to ask what was up. “Honey, I really can’t come outside.”

“Why not? I brought an umbrella..” He stepped inside, shaking off his umbrella as his smile widened. “You look really beautiful by the way..” You smiled, shutting the door behind him so the wind and rain didn't track in.

“My hair, If it gets wet it’ll go back to being curly!” You flatten it with your hands, making a home alone sort of expression. He squinted for a moment, looking back through the window at the storm. “So.. Do you want to hang out here? I’ll go change so I don’t get you wet?”

★ i. toge

The language barrier was hard, but that didn’t stop a relationship from forming. He texted you whenever he had something he really wanted to say, but you figured out what the few foods he said meant and that was enough for the two of you. You often give him yes or no questions so it’s easier to communicate. For example, If you asked “Do you like my hair?” you’d get a quick nod with “Salmon Flakes.” ..Which you picked up on meaning yes or something positive anyway.

If his phone is charging or you two are out, he’ll point to your hair and pull down his scarf to smile wide at you. His eyes say it all, a soft look of appreciation when you talk and a nod or head shake. Sometimes he’ll motion to your pocket where your phone is kept and type on your notes app just to tell you how heavenly you look. He didn’t really go overboard, a simple “Your hair looks really pretty” or “I like the blonde you put in your braid :)” was always enough to earn him a kiss on the cheek. 

Another thing about Toge is he’s a great listener… not that he has much of a choice but whenever you are doing your hair, he’ll listen to you rant about your day, the things that are bugging you, or even the things you like. He knows you can’t check your phone much because there's product on your fingers but he does take everything you say into consideration. In return, sometimes he writes you big paragraphs of things he likes in return so you don’t feel like you know nothing about him.

Because he uses his phone so often to communicate, he’ll send you hairstyle inspiration he thinks you’ll look good in. Obviously you look good in anything but he wants to show you anything he finds. When you actually get what he sends you, He gets flustered and all red. Especially when it’s a surprise. 

“You really like it?” You ask, doing a 360 so he could see the intricate designs in your scalp. He nods almost in a dreamy way, grinning wildly at you. It’s partly pride, partly embarrassed. “Salmon,”

When out shopping and he sees something you’ll like, he’ll hide the purchase until you both return back to his or your apartment. He always ends up acting super shy when he hands you the gift, a few letter charms in this situation, watching you beam with excitement with the extra letters for your name. 

He always paid attention to detail when you both walked around. Anything you stared at for more than 5 seconds you probably liked and didnt get yourself, so he got it for you.

✩ o. yuuta ( made with help from @clickwitch ! )

Swaps regular pillow cases out for satin, going out of his way to get your favorite color rather than to match your shared bedspread. He didn’t want the whole bed covered in silk, it was an uncomfortable texture to sleep and sweat on. However, it shouldn’t be too bad to rest your head on! Especially when you get your hair done. 

He adores your hair. He fumbles a little at first but eventually gets really good at certain styles. Would rather you let him do your silk press at home than go to the salon kinda good.

If you ask him, he'll say he loves doing it. It's a good way to bond when you're both sitting down to braid, it's like your intimate time to talk about whatever you need to. But it also just gives him an excuse to love on you. It's styling just as much as it's Yuuta getting to play with your hair and make you laugh. And being so close to your face he gets to sneak little kisses here and there, so personally he counts it as a win-win.

He loves your natural hair the most, your curls are similar to an angel's halo any time you choose to wear it that way. His second favorite is any style that lets you both match a little more. He'll even wear matching accessories if you've gotten a silk press and parted your hair like his. He gets to see his hard work and it makes you happy.

Plus wash day is no longer a chore with him. It only took one time seeing how exhausted you were afterwards for him to turn it into a spa day instead. At first it was just him spoiling you, a hot oil treatment for your hair, snacks while your leave in conditioner was on, your favorite movies playing.

a/n: Here's their dating moodboards :D sorry it took so long, college has been very stressful and I keep getting FUCKING SICK!! hopefully get to my literal ONE other ask soon

But he'll happily let you drag him into it. Painting his nails, washing his hair, cuddling up on the sofa while you're both in face masks and shower caps. He'd never felt quite so loved as the first time you ran your fingers through his wet hair, gently scratching his scalp as you hummed the tune to the beginning of the movie. 

[fangsandfeels]

Can anyone explain me what the ever-loving fuck is going on with the Qunari in Veilguard?

When I learned about Treviso occupation, I thought that was the result of Qunari officially being on the warpath. The Trespasser made it clear that the Qunari have been planning their invasion for quite a while - but chose to act covertly at first. Which makes perfect sense for Qunari, this is what they do. That would have also added some delicious moments for Taash and the Vashoth!Rook.

However, in the game we have not Qunari, but the Antaam (military). Which sounds stupid. The "it's not the nation, its it's soldiers doing it" excuse already sounds stupid if you ask me, but in the context of the Qunari lore it sounds even more stupid.

So, according to the accompanying media, Antaam...rebelled and acted without sanction. They have split into groups led by warlords who squabble between themselves and try to dig deep into the land they occupied. Which is bullshit.

The Antaam, meaning "body" in Qunlat, is the military of the Qunari led by the Arishok. Metaphorically, the Antaam are the eyes, ears, legs, arms and hands of the creature, everything that one needs to interact with the world, and so most Qunari encountered by Thedosians belong to the military

Antaam listen to the Arishok and Arishok alone. Qun is built on a system where everyone knows their place - and when they're out of place, they freak the fuck out, the massacre-the-family-because-my-tool-is-lost way. So, the probability of a large group of Qunari, an entire fucking army doing something without a command, and then digging a deeper hole for themselves by warlording is extremely low. Also, by all accounts, they're stop being seen by their kin as Qunari - they are Tal-Vashoth. Because they acted on their own volition, disobeyed the order, disobeyed the Arishok. This is not how the Qun works. No matter what they say, how they call themselves - they are Tal-Vashoth.

Like, there is a reason why Qunari are terrified of not fitting their mold - not only they have no idea of what to do when things don't go as planned, but also they are scared of losing their way and becoming permanently lost. The Iron Bull had that belief that he might lose his mind because he didn't know if he should trust himself without the guidance of Qun - him being a little more flexible due to his work as a spy as well as getting people he grew emotionally attached to helped with overcoming this barrier. But far from all Qunari are that lucky. Sten was so dejected after losing his sword that he let himself be caged - he didn't care about dying or anything anymore. He couldn't go home.

...Alright, where were we?

According to the wikipedia, Rasaan (the emissary of the Triumvirate)...took the control over Antaam? HOW? Qun is extremely rigid and allows no loopholes. For a change this massive there have to be some really, really good reasons - and I don't think the Antaam would have just accepted it. Without high enough approval, Sten only acknowledges Warden as the leader after they beat his ass in a duel.

Alright, let's say Rasaan gaslit the Antaam into believing she channels the way of the Qun and they ate it up. But why do we have warlords now?

Warlords with names, like Butcher? There are no names in the Qun. This is, once again, Tal-Vashoth behavior. But at the same time, they have access to qamek? What? How? Why? How does Par Vollen feel about their entire "body" fucking off? If they didn't sanction it, why aren't they stopping them???

It wouldn't be the first time for Bioware to twist their own lore and canon, but this one is legitimately migraine-inducing. Why not make a full-scale and sanctioned Qunari invasion, Qunari are like this! It's okay to make them the baddies, their ways are fucked up already and some positives don't make up for all the negatives! Don't just slap in a bunch of guys literally called "the army" and say "Nah, not all Qunari guys, these are just military acting on their own despite their lifestyle being all about following the system and doing your strictly established duties"

[blushweddinggowns]

Steve stared at him, clearly unimpressed with his lack of response, “Is that it? Because I’d like this conversation to be over now. Good night.”

Then, he went to close the door in Eddie’s face. Something that even his tired reflexes wouldn’t let happen. He jammed his foot in the door, cursing when it got hit. But at least Steve didn’t push him back to try it again. 

Eddie groaned as he braced his arms against the door frame, trying his damndest to get it together, “I don’t have a problem with it, Steve. I’m in the same boat. I’m just fucking exhausted and being a bitch. I’m sorry. I got no issue with what you do, just that we both got scammed into living here.”

“Admitting you scammed me in the same sentence is one hell of an apology,” Steve smirked. He let the door swing back open, his face downgraded from nuclear pissed to mildly amused. 

“Well then I’m sorry for both,” Eddie sighed, “But if it helps I did get scammed first.”

“It does,” Steve laughed softly, “And I’m the one who should be sorry. I’ll figure something out, okay? No more late nights for you.”

“Thank you,” Eddie said, stepping back, “Now I’ll try to sleep for two hours before the bullshit of the day. G’night Steve.”

“Good night, Eddie.”

Eddie went back to bed feeling vaguely accomplished. That could have gone way worse. His first impression of Steve had trumped his second. He really was a sweet guy. A sweet guy who danced for tips at a gay club. A fact that Eddie was aware would haunt his perverted dreams down the line soon. How could he not fantasize about it?  But outside of his fantasies, the information didn’t change anything. Not really. He was aware that he had no chance in hell with someone like that. The death of his crush was still legitimate, even if Steve would no doubt become a new guest in his wet dream roster. 

That said, the added strength to his Steve related fantasies was enough to make him not nearly as rageful when he woke up an hour and a half later. Exhausted but hopeful that this really would be the last day he’d have to deal with working on four hours of sleep or less.

Eddie groaned as he stretched, frowning when he looked at the clock. He’d woken up before his alarm by a solid twenty minutes. A complete anomaly in his life. Then he realized that there was a smell in the air. One that was good enough to bring him back to the waking world. 

Eddie yawned as he stumbled out of his room and into the kitchen. His brows raised to his hairline when he saw Steve standing at the stove, softly humming to himself while he stirred something in a pan. 

“What are you doing up?” Eddie half-asked, half-slurred when he stepped into the room. From his experience in the past week anytime past seven a.m. meant Steve should have been dead to the world. Not smiling at him as he started to plate pancakes and sausage, coffee already on the table. 

“I wanted to make the past few days up to you,” Steve said, gesturing for him to sit down. 

Eddie did, vaguely wondering if he was still dreaming as Steve walked over. 

“I’m not the best cook but I do know some of the basics,” Steve said as he put a plate in front of him, “I hope you like chocolate. I probably should have asked but I didn’t want to wake you.”

Eddie looked down at his plate. The pancakes had chocolate chip smiles. He didn’t even know they owned chocolate chips. 

“I-thank you?” Eddie said, confused as he stared back up at Steve. He just smiled at him, settling at the table like nothing was amiss. Completely oblivious to how lost Eddie was. But Eddie wasn’t going to let food go to waste just because he didn’t know what was going on.

Of course it was delicious. Good enough for Eddie to immediately feel guilty. 

“Aren’t you exhausted?” Eddie asked after a few bites.  

Steve shrugged, gesturing in the air with his fork,  “I can stomach being a little tired considering what I’ve been doing to you. Besides, I don’t even work today.”

“Still, you don’t need to prostrate yourself here,” Eddie said, “This is great and all but you’re already forgiven.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. Like that made any sense. But the food was too good for Eddie to argue. Instead he shut up and ate it, the two of them making small talk before it was time for him to rush out the door. 

It was… nice. Nicer than Eddie had expected. Nice enough to almost make Eddie late to his appointment. He managed to barely get there on time, the exhaustion he should have felt quelled by the lingering good feelings. 

By the time he got back to the apartment that afternoon Steve was out like a light, conked out on the sofa with his clothes on from the morning. Eddie couldn’t help but smile at the image. He really was something else. A total sweetheart when you got right down to it. Eddie could barely remember why he’d been mad in the first place, despite still living off of only a few hours of sleep. 

It made Eddie want to make the morning up to him. Plus all of his awkward fumbling last night, he figured he at least owed the guy dinner. Even if the shit in the fridge wasn’t exactly stellar, he could come up with something. 

Mac and cheese and cut up hot dogs was going to have to do to his chagrin. It was far from impressive but at least there was a positive side. It was a relatively quiet thing to make. Nott quiet enough to stop Eddie from peeking out into the living room as he worked, continually pleased to see Steve still stay fast asleep. He had no desire to wake him up yet. Not when he knew better than anyone how blissful undisturbed rest was.

It was kind of nice, cooking with the sound of Steve's even breathing in the background. Casual and calm.

It was nice enough to almost feel like he was coming home to someone. Like what he was doing mattered a little more than just a roommate cooking for the other. How easy it would be to think of the idea of more.

Eddie shoved that thought back, deciding that it was a touch too pathetic to already be playing house in his head with someone who was barely an acquaintance. They were roommates and that was all they were ever going to be. 

Eddie walked over to him, gentle as he shook Steve’s shoulder, “Steve?”

It didn’t take long for Steve to open his eyes, groaning before he sat up, “What time is it?”

Eddie glanced at the wall clock, “Around sevenish-”

“Oh God,” Steve said, his eyes widening, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to take up the whole living room. I swear I’m not usually this bad-”

“Whoa, calm down,” Eddie interrupted, putting his hands up. All traces of sleep were gone. Replaced with a manic panic that made Eddie's teeth itch. He didn’t enjoy seeing Steve so on edge, “I’m not mad at you, I just wanted to know if you're hungry.”

“Starving,” Steve confirmed, the tension leaving his body as quickly as it had come on. He followed Eddie to the kitchen, yawning as he sat down at the table.

“It’s a poor bitch meal,” Eddie warned before placing a bowl in front of him, “But food’s food right?”

“Exactly right,” Steve agreed. He sighed happily after his first bite, smiling at Eddie like he’d actually done something worthwhile here, “It's a great poor bitch meal, by the way.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Eddie said, smiling back at him.

He couldn’t look too long though. The bright smile Steve gave him was almost blinding. Jesus Christ, what was wrong with the guy? Was he a literal ray of sunshine or what?

Eddie stared down at his plate, keenly aware of the awkward energy in the air. He didn’t know where to go from here. He didn’t even know what they had in common to get a starting point going. So Eddie was opting for cowardly silence over bad small talk. 

“So…” Steve started after a few minutes of quiet, “How was your day?”

“Fine,” Eddie tried, cringing internally at his lame answer. He swallowed, trying again, “I had an appointment in the morning that was a long one. Three hours of tattooing. She was a real trooper-”

“You’re a tattoo artist?” Steve interrupted, head cocked. 

“An apprentice,” Eddie corrected, “For three more months. But yeah, more or less.”

“I was wondering if you were!” Steve said, gesturing up and down his body, “Since you’re covered in them. Don’t get me wrong, they look great. Did you do any yourself?”

Eddie hadn’t been expecting the excitement. 

“A few,” He confirmed, rolling up his sleeve to point them out, “They’re all on my left arm, for obvious reasons.”

Steve scooted closer in record time, their thighs nearly pressed together in a matter of seconds. Luckily Steve was too busy staring at his arm to notice the blush crawling up Eddie’s neck.

“So, I uh did around three of them,” Eddie said, suddenly nervous, “The bats, the owl, and the crow. Then I added a few details to some others, here and there.”

“Wow,” Steve murumered, his eyes still focused on Eddie’s arm. He brought a hand up, hovering over the crow sitting on his bicep, “Can I…?”

“Sure,” Eddie said, genuinely proud of himself when his voice didn’t shake. 

Steve touched him softly, his fingertips gently sweeping over the outline

“It’s so detailed,” He said, finally looking up at him, “It must have taken hours. How did you deal with the pain at the same time?”

Eddie shrugged, trying his damndest to look nonchalant despite the way his heart was beating out of his chest, “I’ve never minded pain much.”

“Is that so?” Steve hummed, his eyes back down to the ink, “Like the rough treatment a little, huh?”

Despite his herculean efforts to keep it cool, that sentence succeeded at turning Eddie’s brain into mush, “W-Well-I don’t mean it like-It’s not-”

“I’m just teasing,” Steve said softly, a smile on his lips at Eddie's complete and utter fumble, “I think it’s impressive. You’re really talented, you know that?”

Eddie swallowed roughly, feeling in real time as his once dead crush was fully revived with lightning fast speed, “Thank you.”

“Just calling it like I see it,” Steve sighed, sitting back. Eddie missed his touch in an instant. Steve went back to his plate, his elbow on the table and his head propped up in his hand as he looked at him, “So, how’d you get into art?”

Eddie told him. He probably told him a little too much. Like how he always loved it but was a little bit of a fuck up after he hit eighteen. How it took awhile to get his shit together enough to even think of the idea to be one, let alone the idea that he could actually do it. Eddie reeled it in a bit after that confession. Lest he found him self doing a whole trauma dump on the poor thing.

But he did get to learn a little about Steve in exchange. Or at least his better half. He gushed for a while about his best friend pursuing her Ph.D in linguistics, talking endlessly on how impressive she was to know more than one language, let alone study abroad to get her thesis going. 

It was cute. And if Eddie didn’t know better he might have suspected that he was in love with the girl. A thought that Steve vehemently shut down, fake gagging and all.

“Legally it wouldn’t be incest,” He’d sighed, “But morally it would be. God would not smile upon that union.”

His seriousness had killed Eddie, sending him into a three-minute laughing fit that Steve joined in on. It was a good night. Fun. Maybe too fun. Fun enough for Eddie to have to continually remind himself to calm the fuck down when his mind started to wonder to other things. It was hard not too when the guy was so… special. 

But not special enough for Eddie to lose his whole head over him.

Yet.

from this finished fic

@multidimensional-wavelength it is done! (For now! I might add an extra chapter for my egregious lateness!)

tag list from a month ago (my bad 😅)@faery-god @the-fatal-lozenge @nyeddleblog @my-love-of-books @awkwardgravity1 @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse

[psychotic-nonsense]

NOW WITH A PART 2 AND PART 3 !!!!

Not sure if this is anything, and feel free to critique or add on or clarify and all that, but...

A few weeks post-Starcourt Steve, absolutely wrecked by the Russians and Billy. He's healing, little by little, but he knows he needs to put his pain aside to help out The Party. Especially Robin, who has not been coping with the trauma well. She's taken to spending the night at Steve's most of the time, and they help each other manage. She's not the best with physical comfort, nor is Steve with verbal comfort, but they're managing.

Yet despite the constant offers of help, Steve always refuses to "ask for too much" and often downplays his pain, forcing a smile to keep anyone from worrying. He's bottling up everything - probably handling it worse than Robin, even though he insists he's used to it and knows how to fix himself. Every day he gets a little worse, and every night he brushes off help.

It's during one of these late nights that disaster finds them again. It's Steve and Robin in his living room, and they're just about falling asleep on the couch when the ground begins rumbling, hard. An earthquake, shaking Hawkins and getting the entire Party in a frenzy. The radios are blaring with the kids' voices and Steve's trying to get Robin to stop screaming into the walkie, when suddenly there's a hole opening up in Steve's living room, and the earthquake stops. Steve and Robin go quiet, and the kids are urging for a response as they all rush to meet up at Steve's.

But he and Robin can't speak, too busy staring at the hole. One that looks way too similar to the Gates... but it glows blue instead of the usual red. Steve, ever the protector, is carefully stepping around the hole to grab a fire poker for defense. The second he does, the Party bursts in, just in time to watch the hole suddenly crack open further, sucking Steve in and closing itself behind him-

As Steve Harrington lands in the bedroom of Post-ST3-release 2019 Eddie Munson.

Eddie's living rough, bunking in his childhood friend Ronnie's basement. An orphan, can't hold a job, in his second senior year of high school purely because he knows he has nothing else to do after it. His only source of comfort so far has been DnD - either the DM hosting he does at the local library for the other poor lost suckers, or the one Netflix show with its elements that has captured his heart.

Eddie's a pretty big Stranger Things fan - it has its faults but is otherwise a really fun and interesting show - but ever since ST2, he's especially been a Steve Harrington fan. He feels like he goes mad just thinking about the implications of what that man has gone through, what all those kids have been through, and how Steve has put aside himself to focus on the kids. How much Steve has changed, and how under appreciated he is.

Since binging all of ST3 the day it released, Eddie's had a field day on breaking down this newest reformation of Steve. He adores Robin - clocked her as a lesbian from episode 1 - and loves that Dustin and Erica have been bringing out his bitchy side, while still keeping him in check. The Russian torture and strange parallels with Billy have made him cry on more than one occasion, and Steve's half-high speech in the bathroom legitimately felt like Steve finally acknowledging his change, even if for but a moment.

Ronnie's teased Eddie way too much about his "obvious crush on Joe Keery" but this feels way too personal for him to just be crushing on an actor. This is Eddie falling for the Fallen King of Hawkins himself, and it's much more embarrassing. Steve Harrington becomes his muse in every form of art; drawing, writing, character inspiration and improvisation. The Duffer brothers aren't the greatest at the rest of the show, but they've damn well got this guy down.

Hell, Eddie was halfway to crossing the last personal barrier to outright obsession (x Reader fanfiction) when the earthquake hit. In hindsight it wasn't the worst thing in the world, but Eddie had never experienced one before. He immediately dove right under his bed, covering his ears and curling up in a ball like a coward ("Nancy Wheeler would be ashamed," his weird ass brain supplies). He hears rumbling, things falling over, wood splintering and the world seemingly cracking apart all around him-

When a body suddenly lands hard on his bed with a loud scream of fear, cutting off as the whatever it is rolls straight off to the floor, and the world gives one final strain before going completely silent.

Terrified, Eddie's eyes are shut tight, cowering as the body on the floor just a foot away from him groans and gasps for air. It takes a sudden hiss of pain for Eddie to finally, carefully, crack one eye open.

Only to come eye to eye, through the gaps of his bedsheets, with the very muse he'd just been thinking of. Steve Harrington.

There's an immediate scramble of panic; Eddie bashing his skull into his bed frame trying to get out and away from the obvious hallucination, while Steve wobbles on his feet to defend himself against this strange humanoid Upside Down monster.

"What are you?! Where am I?!"

"What am- Are- You- No, you're not real- JESUS H. CHRIST MAN, GET THAT AWAY FROM ME!"

"I don't know what you're talking about, but you're gonna see how real this is if you don't tell me what's going on!"

"You think I know?! You fell into my room!!"

"Yeah, from your Gate!!"

"WHAT FUCKING GATE- WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!?"

"I DON'T FUCKING KNOW!!"

That gets them both to shut up, just staring at each other. Eddie pressed up against the wall in fear with his hands up and out wide, Steve with the fire poker pointed straight at his neck and his hand held up cautiously. Eddie sees it, smells blood in the air, and ignoring everything, reaches out for it. Steve jabs at the air with the poker, but it's halfhearted, his energy clearly draining, too exhausted with the whole situation to try much further. Finally his arm drops, but Eddie doesn't move, watching Steve's face crumple in a way that aches everything inside his heart.

"Where am I...?" Steve pleas, tone just as desperate as the one from the Russian bunker, even when lacking its power.

Eddie fumbles for the words, but eventually just sighs. "Somewhere you wouldn't believe, my friend."

High and complacent on adrenaline and shock, Steve and Eddie just move in silence. Eddie grabs a wet cloth to clean the blood, Steve cutting off a bit of his sweatpants to use as gauze. It's just a gash from falling with the fire poker, nothing drastic, but the two stare at the cut in Steve's palm, easier to see than the one who's hand is on theirs.

Introductions are exchanged when they can finally stop shaking, and Eddie somehow drops the bomb on where and when Steve is, and what his entire existence is to this reality. Steve has a very brief existential panic attack about it, but is strangely comforted by Eddie's confidence about it all - "Even without El's powers, those kids are smart as hell. They'll figure out a way to make their own Gate and get you back home."

Then Steve just spends the next week or two in a reality almost 40 years in the future, where he and his entire existence is a sci-fi TV show. Some funny exchanges I've been thinking of:

Steve: Wait, so we're characters in a show, right? That means we have actors.

Eddie: Oh, uh, yeah, you do...

Steve: ...Think I could see them?

Eddie: Uh- Sure, I guess? Not sure what you're expecting, it's a live action thing, they look just like you.

Steve: Never getting used to your future phone... Huh, Joe Keery? Looks like a cool guy- woah, is that what my hair looks like short??

Eddie: Yup, again, literally just you.

Steve: Funny how we both have the most basic names too. Steve and Joe? Like, look at Dustin's actor, what kind of name is Gaten?

Eddie: Rude, the guy plays your little brother.

Steve: Quit bringing your fake show theories into my actual life.

Eddie: It's true though.

Steve: ...Yeah.

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

(Steve goes crazy after a few days of being locked in, and begs Eddie to take him out to "see the future." While they're walking around town, a group of girls suddenly freak out and rush them)

"It's Joe Keery! Guys, look it's Steve Harrington, from Stranger Things!!"

(Eddie's halfway to panicking, but Steve immediately handles the situation)

Steve: Sorry to disappoint, ladies, not him. Don't worry though, I've been getting that a lot since the show came out.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry! Hope we didn't make you uncomfortable, mister..."

Steve: Mark, and not at all! I get asked this a lot too, but do you girls want a picture? For bragging rights, getting to meet "The Steve Harrington?"

(They agree, Eddie takes it for them, the girls go on their way)

Eddie whispering: That's gonna be everywhere in 5 seconds, I hope you know.

Steve whispering: Eh, it's a crowd my actor didn't have to deal with. Besides, felt pretty good.

Eddie: Familiar experience?

Steve: For a better reason.

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

Steve, showing Eddie's laptop screen open to the FunkoPop website and the Scoops Duo, halfway to tears: They make figurines of me and Robin?

Eddie: Yeah, of all you guys. I've got a little Dustin on my desk.

Steve, beginning to cry from how adorable he finds it: YOU DO?

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

(Ronnie comes back from work early while Steve and Eddie are talking in the living room. Eddie freezes as Steve makes eye contact, and Ronnie just stares)

Ronnie: Um, hi?

Steve: Oh, hey! You must be Eddie's roommate, nice to finally meet you! I'm Mark.

(That allows a breath to finally enter and escape Eddie's throat in a bit of a laugh. Steve's really leaning into this Mark persona)

Ronnie: Ronnie, and likewise... Sorry if I'm acting weird, you're just a really good cosplayer. Thought you were actually Steve for a second.

Steve hesitantly: Nah, just a doppleganger.

Ronnie, shrugging and walking away: Well okay then, I'm way too tired to talk much more. Eds, just keep your nerd shit out of the sink-

Eddie: And stay quiet, yeah yeah, go rest, breadwinner.

(Ronnie goes upstairs, out of earshot)

Steve whispering: What's a cosplayer?

Eddie, suddenly also very tired: Tell you later.

I'm thinking that Eddie had sketchbooks, notebooks, and Word Docs absolutely stuffed full of ST character evaluation, which he immediately hid upon Steve's arrival. Maybe Steve gets bored when Eddie's out for whatever reason, and snoops around. That's when he finds it all crammed at the back of Eddie's closet. The kids, Nancy, Jonathan, Robin, Joyce, Hopper, hell Billy and Murray are in the pile. Drawings of them in their adventures, active and mundane alike. Pages upon pages of character description, Eddie's handwriting gushing about the parts of the show and characters he loves, hates, wishes was fixed, all of it.

But the part that gets Steve is one specific sketchbook and notebook, both dubbed the Steven Soliloquy. It's the same type of information as before, but only about him, and it's filled to the brim. Eddie talking about his development, his change of heart, the complete shift that Nancy and the Upside Down and the kids allowed him to have. The affects of his trauma, and how much he stuffed it down in favor of everyone else. Talked about his relationships, ones he cherishes, loathes, never thought of or never got the chance to make. Talked about "AUs," alternative realities where he got everything he ever wanted. Eddie's words, his sketches, devolve into adoration-fueled envy, wishing he could be near such an amazing man, that he was strong enough to be such an amazing man. How much his heart aches for Steve.

And if this were a normal situation, Steve would be uncomfortable, creeped out. But knowing the context of it all, Steve can't help but be enamored. That his family's journey, his entire story of survival - even when fictional to Eddie - is so valued makes it all feel a little more worth it. That there was someone out there during all of their terror, rooting for their victory, crying with their pain, screaming with their fears, understanding them because he lived through it all right beside them.

Eddie finds Steve in his room later that day, surrounded by those books. Staring at what Eddie considers his WIP magnum opus; a half-finished colored pencil recreation of the Last Supper with the entire Party, including all of the people they lost, happy and healthy. Eddie's two seconds from apologizing for how creepy it all must be - seeing how many of those books are open - but then he sees the tears in Steve's eyes. Gratitude and adoration and care, all bundled up and very suddenly staring right at him with the widest smile he's seen.

They talk about it. Eddie finally admits his minor obsession with the show, and how much they've helped him come to terms with being a self-dubbed loser. He honestly gushes way too much about what he owes to them about his life, but Steve listens to it all with complete adoration. At the end of it, Steve asks Eddie about the possibility that they've been adamantly ignoring for Steve's entire stay: actually watching Stranger Things.

And that's how they spend their last week. Starting from season 1, they sit in the living room and binge the entire thing. Steve learns an entirely new perspective about his family's adventures, not only from the show's canon, but from Eddie's theories and rants in between monumental moments. Eddie holds his hand during the scenes that focus on his worst nightmares; the Demogorgan in the Byler home, the breakup, his fight with Billy, the Russians. Steve provides his perspective on how he felt during it all, finally admitting to the pain he's gone through instead of just focusing on the others hoping it'll all go away.

Not sure where exactly it goes from here. Maybe some codependency grows between them. Maybe Steve falls a little in love. Maybe they just stay friends, the only ones who understand each other aside from their Platonic Soulmates.

Maybe, when another earthquake finally hits, opening up a Gate in Ronnie's backyard, Steve and Eddie finally must go their separate ways. Eddie promising to keep watching over them from across the realm, Steve promising to make a happy ending for their story.

Or maybe, Steve can't help but see what little Eddie has, how special Eddie actually is, and offer to bring him along. Into the very show he loves so much. Maybe Eddie convinces Ronnie that he'll be okay, swearing to be entertaining should he join the show in an important way, and making her swear that if he doesn't survive to bring him back in as much fanfiction as she can write. Maybe Eddie enters Hawkins, Indiana, and becomes a bit self aware about being in a TV show. It takes a while for everyone to warm up to the future man - and for Eddie to get used to Midwestern US in the 80s - but he becomes a close member of the Party quite easily. Maybe his involvement in season 4, his death, is avoided, and maybe it's not.

But his adoration for Steve Harrington never goes away. Not in canon, or in fiction.

[xxtha-blog]

Why Horrortale Sans is Definitely Evil

Horrortale Sans is evil. This is the opposite of a defence post, I am calling out this character and his many misdeeds! I do not know how people legitimately defend his actions or claim he’s just a normal guy who tries really hard not to eat people. I do not think we read the same comic. This is a comprehensive deep dive into why Horror is evil.

First a chronological look at Horror’s dubious actions. Not all of theses are evil and some have good justification as standalone events, but provide wider context for things:

1. He has to be convinced into helping repair the Core which he knows is broken, and has inside info he knows could help get it fixed, only when Grillby begs him to because as revealed on another page, the loss of the Core means “the fire eats at [Grillby’s] very soul like acid, perpetually burning him alive”

2. He spends a total of 12 months trying to figure out how to repair the Core but based on Undyne’s statements about how he rarely works, either means he’s a. Not actually putting enough effort into it (if we believe her and not Sans) or b. Not telling Undyne and Alphys how his work is going which is probably pertinent information for them to have (If we believe Sans, but want a reason as to why Undyne has that impression)

3. He finally brings her a solution to the Core after knowing he’s going to die (but if you want to be generous, maybe it was just really bad timing and he really did only needed a few more days to bring her a solution) and claims it’s a “long shot” meaning he doesn’t even know if it will work.

4. Undyne, thinking that is an insane plan, tells him she has a different plan. Sacrificing him to save everyone. Sans makes it clear he would never let himself die to save everyone.

5. When a guard begs him to sacrifice himself to save his wife and children, Sans launches him into the stratosphere saying: “fuck off.”

6. Even though Undyne attacks him first, it’s actually Sans that takes out her head and eye first.

7. Sans brutally murders the guards who helped Undyne.

8. When Alphys, showing Sans that her plan has objectively work and he is not dead (bonus!!), Sans destroys the Core.

He destroys the thing that will keep him, his brother, and literally every person in the underground alive. Grillby now suffers eternally, and everyone will die a slow and painful death. This does not help him in any way, does not change the fact his head is broken, he does it purely out of malice. The equivalent of getting shot, surviving, and then nuking the town you were shot in. He does not take his eye back if you thought it was to take his eye back. It’s still in the broken Core.

9. He lobotomizes Alphys

10. He gets Aliza to become a cannibal

11. He tortures and maims Aliza (let’s her get cut in half by a bear trap, pulls her hair so hard it bleeds, let’s her freeze to death in a puzzle, sends her to Grillbys where she gets partially cooked alive, cuts her arm off)

Really great guy here.

Secondly let’s get some of the common defences out of the way:

1. Sans had a plan that would save everyone! Undyne was therefore making a bad decision by trying to killing him

a. Sans says his plan IS A LONG SHOT

b. Alphys explains Sans’s plan would have taken a lot of time and magic ie. time that would get a lot of other people killed

c. Undyne’s plan actually goes better that expected! What was assumed would kill Sans doesn’t end up killing him at all. Literally a win-win for everyone involved.

d. Undyne/Alphys’s plan works, and therefore objectively saved more people. 0 net casualties if Sans had a single ounce of humanity.

2. Sans worked really hard and Undyne betrayed him. Undyne should have told him first

Undyne doesn’t tell him because she doesn’t want to consider hurting Sans despite monsters dying. Moments before Sans shows up, a child dies in a mother’s arm. Then Sans explains his plan is to dismantle the Core, which ‘might’ work, and will take a lot of effort and magic to do so, which is time they do not have (it’s been 12 months. He has had 12 months.). He also blames Undyne for getting them into this mess and mocks her for letting people die. She then attacks him. They end up both losing half their head and eye in the fight, making them perfectly even. The core’s power is restored.

But, whether or not Sans feels betrayed or not is irrelevant to the fact that Undyne makes the most reasonable and moral decision in this moment and also Sans has kind of done everything in his power to not sell his idea and piss off the person he knows is considering killing him so big L on his part for that one.

It also does not in any way shape or form justify destroying the Core, which is probably the most evil thing you could possibly do in that scenario.

3. They both are at fault for the Core/Both Evil then

There is literally a world of difference between:

“Sacrifices 1 person who ends up not dying, to save everyone. Which succeeds.”

And

“Destroys the thing that will successfully keep everyone alive, thus dooming everyone including yourself to die a slow and agonizing death, because you are angry your friend tried to kill you in an effort to save everyone”

That’s not even including the 10 other things on my list that are definitely also evil, but I cannot take people seriously if they put these two things on some sort of a moral equivalence. Undyne is in the right. 1 person for everyone is a worthy sacrifice. If anything Undyne’s only flaw is waiting so long to do it.

4. (Unrelated to the Core incident) Sans is actually morally grey, he doesn’t eat humans like everyone else which is a complex character motivation

You’re right, Sans doesn’t eat humans. Instead he finds enjoyment in torturing them brutally, a much worse thing than eating to stay alive.

His fight with hunger is also entirely self-made. Both because it’s not morally wrong to eat another living being to survive (and it’s not cannibalism to eat a human as a monster) and because he is the reason this is still happening 7 years later. It is literally his fault he is hungry. There is no interesting moral conundrum here, he does not care about hurting people. He is just out of his mind.

In conclusion, Horrortale Sans is a deeply selfish and uncaring person. Whatever minor good deeds he does throughout the comic are so immensely overshadowed by his absolute depravity that they might as well not exist. He is the reason every single monster in that underground continues to suffer, including himself, and while in his mind maybe there’s some weird justification, no outsider observer should look at these actions and think, yeah, that was reasonable. Much less think Undyne or Alphys are somehow WORSE. He destroys the Core because he didn’t die after everyone is saved, solely to be vindictive. He does not gain anything by doing this. He doesn't even take back the eye he lost which is still in the broken core! He lobotomizes Alphys because he’s mad he looks like a freak. He murders people who wants him to help everyone stay alive. He maims and tortures children and no amount of not eating them afterwards makes that any less morally apprehensible.

None of this is meant to say you can’t like him as a character. It is just to explain why characterizing him as a poor lil guy who did nothing wrong, is a little… wrong.

i believe this is an extensive look into why Horrortale Sans is evil.

Thank you for reading :)

[purplesoulcollection]

Matchmaking Force

Unreciprocated affection.

That perfectly captures the captain's current state of mind.

My fellow Lofty troops and I, who have stood by the captain for quite some time, are well aware of his feelings for that woman.

She was once the captain's superior when he first entered the battlefield, and now she has risen to the rank of commander, surpassing him.

How do we know about the captain's feelings? Typically, his thoughts are quite unpredictable even for us the Lofty troops that had long sworn allegiance to him, right?

However, we can clearly see the change in his expression. The captain often appears stressed and in a foul mood because of war, but his face lights up when he talks to the commander. He becomes animated when discussing military matters and war strategies with her.

The captain thought no one knew about his feelings even when they could be seen very clearly.

At times, he seems to drift off into his own thoughts, trying to suppress a smile, but it’s no use; a smile breaks through whenever he thinks no one is watching.

These observations reveal the signs of the captain's unreciprocated affection, which seem to be growing stronger. We can’t help but feel sympathy for him, as his love remains unreturned.

In the past, the captain was in a state of confusion, attempting to avoid her, but now he has become bolder and wishes to approach her. Yet, he still holds back enough not to reveal his true feelings.

"Commander, do you have a moment to chat?"

As she spoke, the captain's familiar routine began again—attempting to assert himself but lacking the conviction to make it effective.

"What’s on your mind, Deon?" replied the woman, her expression perpetually stern and devoid of warmth.

"I have some confidential news from the kingdom." The captain revealed a letter adorned with the royal seal.

"Alright, step into my tent!"

It appeared that the captain was once more trying to initiate a private conversation with the commander.

His reasoning was plausible; indeed, a letter had arrived from the kingdom, and someone needed to share its contents with the commander.

However, it was unusual for a captain to be the one delivering such news. It seemed more like he was seeking an opportunity to get closer to her.

Otherwise, he would often resort to talking to himself like a lunatic when he lacked a legitimate reason to approach the commander.

Those of us observing his antics couldn't help but gossip, feeling a bit exasperated and hoping to play matchmaker if there was any spark between them.

"You just witnessed what happened, right? I mentioned that the Captain lacks experience when it comes to women, which is why he handles things in such a clumsy way. How can he even share his feelings with his clumsy attitude?" Someone voiced their frustration after seeing the Captain earlier, so frustrated.

We're currently taking a break after the recent conflict, and the sight of the Captain and Commander has sparked quite a bit of chatter among us.

"How could he possibly know how to approach girls when he was thrown into war before he even reached adolescence?"

Those words hit hard, bringing the discussion to a halt because they ring true.

"Isn't it usually women who enjoy gossip and romantic tales more than us older guys? Why are we the ones who seem to understand the situation better?"

"True, the Commander hasn't given any feedback yet. If he’s not interested in the Captain, he could just turn him down right away." That statement stirred up quite a debate.

"Hey, do you really think you can handle the fallout if the Captain gets heartbroken and something happens to him!?"

"Do you honestly believe the Captain is so fragile that he would crumble from rejection? He’s not that weak!"

"Let’s not speak ill of our leader behind his back. It’s unbecoming and not the behavior of a true knight!" I attempted to step in as the debate grew more intense and started to veer into unacceptable territory.

"Dame Lianne should be the one concerned. Aren't you frustrated by the captain's blatant behavior? You're a woman!"

"But right now, we’re facing war. Wouldn't sharing your feelings just create tension between them and hinder their ability to collaborate?"

"That mindset is too simplistic. Do you really think we have the luxury of time? We're at war, and one misstep could cost us our lives. We need to act in a way that we won't regret! The captain will surely regret it if he doesn't take action before it's too late!"

Cheers of agreement filled the air, signaling that those with logical minds could finally cease their debates, as they understood this situation was settled.

However, the celebration was short-lived when someone interjected, "But the captain is quite timid, especially given his current demeanor. If he faces rejection, he might become even more unhinged than usual, and we could end up being his victims without a second thought."

Just hearing that argument sent chills down everyone’s spine, as it painted a vivid and terrifying picture.

Before any rejection could occur, the captain had already instilled fear in his own troops with the way Deon executed his kills. Imagining Deon's escalating madness felt like stepping into a nightmarish realm.

Let's not get carried away with our thoughts. Right now, we have a captain who feels hopeless about sharing his feelings. If we don’t step in to help him, who knows how long he’ll continue to struggle in his interactions with the commander!

"Dame Lianne, you’re our only chance to find out how the commander feels about the captain!"

"Why should I get involved in a plan I don’t support?" I nearly shouted at my own fellow soldiers, losing my composure to fight the urge to beat whoever have the idea.

"You’re the only noblewoman among us. If you won’t do it, then who will? You’re the deputy captain!"

I wanted to push back against their request, but the eager looks from her teammates made her feel trapped, as if they were questioning her loyalty to Deon.

Feeling cornered and recalling her vow to act as long as it didn’t conflict with imperial orders, i finally relented and agreed.

"So what do you want to talk about, Dame Lianne?" The commander's sharp gaze probed every suspicious reaction of my body. I myself can't blame her because even though we are both nobles, I have never spoken to him alone due to differences in military status.

After I said yes earlier, I was literally pushed to meet the commander without further preparation, without me being able to prepare the conversation material first.

They don't know the burden of a woman who has to carry out a mission like this without warning first.

If the commander becomes suspicious of my motives, she might even think that it was the captain who ordered me to investigate her feelings or the worse she thinks that I'm a spy from the kingdom.

So I have to be careful like walking on a tightrope and not fall into suspicion.

"Did you know that the captain was hurt, Commander?"

The commander's puzzled expression was evident. Her usual calmness faltered for a moment before she regained her composure.

"Deon didn’t mention that during our conversation." she said that, trying to keep her voice steady, but her concern and sadness were hard to miss.

"True, but the captain is incredibly resilient and can withstand a lot of injuries. He feels the need to remain strong, especially since he’s seen as a hero. I’m sure he wouldn’t want you to worry about him."

"Thank you for the update, Dame Lianne. I’ll check on him later."

Hearing that eased my mind, and I excused myself before the Lofty troops could bombard me with their impatient questions.

"Please, stop overwhelming me. The Commander looked anxious when I mentioned that the Master was hurt."

The puzzled expressions on the Lofty troops' faces only added to my frustration. They had urged me to investigate, yet now they seemed just as confused.

"You all told me to inquire without raising suspicion. If you don’t ask directly, then of course we’ll have to discuss something else."

The Lofty troops exchanged glances, searching for the right words, until one finally spoke up, "That’s not the issue, Dame Lianne. The captain isn’t injured. If you say he is, do we need to create an injury for him to avoid being caught in a lie?"

Ultimately, our expressions turned somber as we realized the gravity of the situation we had unintentionally caused. It seems we are in for a serious consequence for being caught in a web of lies and spreading misinformation.

We will not be sentenced to death, for sure. But there is a punishment worse than death, namely being severely beaten without being able to fight back.

The following day arrived, and a group of us gathered in silence, an uncomfortable and somber atmosphere surrounding us.

We kept our heads down, knowing our deceptions would soon be revealed, and the severe consequences looming over us dampened our spirits for the day ahead.

Yet, some had come to terms with the situation and attempted to lighten the mood with jokes and laughter about the fabrications I had spun.

"Hey, Dame Lianne! Your idea was actually pretty clever; if we had gone through with it, we would have faced immediate punishment!" one of the guys gave me a thumbs-up, signaling that I was on the right track.

"And you mentioned that the commander is worried, which means he must have some feelings for the captain."

"Even if we end up getting punished, if it helps their relationship, that’s a win, right, buddy?"

The once-muted cheers, stifled by fear, now filled the air, and I was taken aback by the shift in the men’s demeanor.

Ahem.

The sound of a cough made us all straighten up, our bodies rigid with attention.

Then we noticed the commander and captain together, holding hands.

Our eyes widened in surprise; their faces were flushed, perhaps they had overheard our earlier conversation.

"Dame Lianne, yesterday you intentionally…"

"Captain, Commander, are you two officially a couple now?"Lofty's troops immediately hugged Deon, disregarding the commander's inquiry directed at me.

They embraced Deon, causing him to reluctantly let go of the commander’s hand.

"At least, the captain has revealed his feelings!"

"This once small and delicate child has blossomed into an adult who is now in a relationship!"

"The captain was unaware of how thrilled we were to see him coming our way."

"Indeed, the captain isn't quite ready to approach women. Let me share how I used to approach my wife..."

The loud chatter of the crowd drowned out Deon's protests and his discomfort with his own troops' behavior.

"Dame Lianne…"

Facing the commander alone, I quickly offered my apologies.

"I'm sorry for deceiving you, commander. I'm ready to accept any punishment." I dropped my knees as a form of proof that I was guilty.

"That's alright, I'm not upset with you. You didn't do any harm. In fact, I'm quite relieved because of you."

"Relieved because of me?"

"I lack the courage to show Deon more attention. But I believe I need a little encouragement to express my feelings for him."

"Then may I ask what happened next after I left?" Commander looked away, trying not to answer my question even if i practically eyeing her as a hawk. I understand her concern that she is afraid that I will spread unpleasant gossip but i still the a knight who has loyalty.

"You can trust me with your secrets, commander. Besides, we are the only two female knights here, so I can certainly relate to your situation."

Her cheeks flushed as she leaned in closer and whispered with quiet voice. "He insisted that he wasn't injured, so I had to remove his clothing with force. That’s when he confessed he felt embarrassed because the person he liked saw his body that full with scars. I quickly reassured him, saying that I liked him too."

It appears that last night’s events were quite daring, and there seems to be an unspoken incident that followed.

However, neither the commander nor I delved deeper into that topic, as we were preoccupied with separating Deon from his troops, who

were starting to overwhelm him. Whatever unfolds next is beyond our concern; the loyal troops of both parties deserve happiness, even amidst the chaos of war.

The End

[actuallysaiyan]

No Other Heart(Executioner!Kenpachi Zaraki x Fem!Princess!Reader)

warnings: smut, mentions of violence/executions, Fantasy AU!, canon divergent, loss of virginity, oral sex(Fem!Receiving), use of pet names(little dove, princess), reader has pubic hair, slight tummy bulge kink, use of Sir, Kenpachi is an executioner, creampie finish/unprotected sex word count: 3k!!! pairings: Executioner!Kenpachi Zaraki x Fem!Princess!Reader a/n: this is for the lovely Vero(@yeowangies) who's helped me so much with this idea! <<_<< Knight Renji might be the next instalment in this kind of Fantasy series!

Sometimes you feel like a bird trapped in a cage. The princess who’s never allowed to leave the castle. They say it’s for your own good, but you never really know about that. Hiding you away in the castle seemed to only hinder you. For hours, you’d stare outside your window and wish for freedom.

The only thing that seemed to brighten your days was your bodyguard, Sir Kenpachi. Everyone else was terrified of the large and intimidating man, but you always found comfort in him. He kept you safe whenever you were allowed to leave the castle. He accompanied you anywhere you needed him to. And whenever he wasn’t your bodyguard, he was the royal executioner.

You remember when you were a child, you had seen him once splattered in blood and gore. It scared you so deeply, and you had cried in your sleep that night. It had only gotten worse when he was assigned as your bodyguard. You shuddered at his scary face and threatening demeanor. He was such a horror to be seen, such a terrifying image that was burned into your mind. The more you witnessed him after the job he did, the more you found yourself so terrified of this man.

As time went on, you became intrigued by the big man who’s in charge of keeping you safe. You even began to enjoy seeing him covered in blood. Knowing that he’s the man who would kill anyone to keep you safe, it made your heart race like nothing else. This man was the only one who could keep you safe. And slowly but surely, you realized you were enamored by him. He was the only person who could truly keep you safe. The only man you could trust outside of your own father.

The rumors about him being a virgin killer only confused and aroused you even more. You were pure yourself, knowing you’d be pure until your wedding night. But Sir Kenpachi was known as someone who sleeps almost exclusively with virgins. And you shuddered whenever you thought about the second meaning to that term. Maybe he was someone who also found himself having to kill the pure and the innocent.

You knew that as time would go on, you’d be too invested and attracted to the man who was in charge of killing others. The man who’s kept you safe since you were a young woman until this very day. And now that you’re older, you’re finding yourself so interested and intrigued by the idea of having sex and falling in love. 

It was never going to happen on its own, and not in a natural way. You were always going to be married off to some prince from a faraway land, and you were always going to have someone watching to make sure the consummation of your marriage was legitimate.

But it all happened so fast one night…

There had been a very large riot in the city, and your father had been assassinated. Your mother was taken away from the kingdom by her own bodyguard, leaving you to be in the care of Sir Kenpachi. You struggled against his tight hold, begging and pleading.

“No please! Let me go!” You whined, trying to break free of his hold.

He shakes his head, “No, I can’t.”

He’s rough as he places you on horseback, getting on behind you. You’re crying and begging to turn back, but he knows there’s no way he can bring you back to your castle. Everything has changed within one night, and even if you were to come back, it would be much too dangerous. 

“Listen to me, little dove.” He says to you, “You’re not going to be safe unless you stay with me.”

And his words ring true. The deeper into the forest you ride, the more you realize you’d never be able to deal with all of this on your own. He has a tight hold on you, while the other hand holds onto the reins. Kenpachi steers the horse through thick forest and deep swamp, all while keeping you safe from unwanted bandits popping up out of nowhere and wild beasts ready to swipe at you.

At last, you two reach a small safe haven; a cottage nestled in the brush. It’s not what you’d call home, but it’s going to be the place you’ll be staying for the next little while. He helps you off the horse, and he opens the door. You’re surprised to find it outfitted with the amenities you’d need for the next little while. As you sit on a chair in the kitchen, Sir Kenpachi works on getting a fire going. It’s cozy here, especially when he lights a few lanterns to make it even brighter. You begin to feel a bit more at ease.

“There’s a bath in the other room,” Kenpachi grunts. “If you want to get cleaned up. I can heat up water for you.”

You smile softly, “That would be nice.”

You’ve never seen him be this soft and domestic before. This is the man you’ve seen murder people countless times for the greater good of the kingdom. This is the same man you’ve heard threaten outsiders if they looked at you the wrong way. Your heart melts at the thought of him taking such good care of you.

With the fire roaring, he begins to boil some water for your bath. You begin inspecting the rest of the cottage. There’s a living area with lots of books and a comfy sofa. You find the materials to knit, sew and crochet as well. Then you head towards the bathroom, which has indoor plumbing other than the bath. You’re impressed that Sir Kenpachi knew to bring you here.

But when it comes to the bedroom, this is when you panic. There’s only one bedroom, and only one bed. This means he’s either going to have to sleep on the sofa, which won’t be comfy at all for him and his big frame, or he’s going to have to sleep with you in the bed. You wonder if you’ll manage to keep your urges to yourself.

“Your bath water is ready, little dove.” Kenpachi whispers gruffly in your ear. You gasp, turning around to look at him.

He can see the panic written all over your face. He knows that you must be wondering if he’ll sleep with you in the same bed. He’s watched you blossom from a young woman to the dainty beautiful princess you are now. You’ve always been so beautiful in his eyes, but he’s never wanted to sully you with his dirty hands. He’s got the blood of thousands of criminals, unwanted and bandits on his hands. How would you even want to be touched by someone like him?

He brings you into the bathroom. Kenpachi turns towards the door, but you softly take his hand in yours. You smile up at him, it’s a sincere and genuine smile.

“Please,” you plead. “Sir Kenpachi, I need help undoing the corset.”

You turn your back towards him, and he swallows hard. Now he thinks you’re just toying with him. He knows better than to refuse an order from the princess like this. So with his large hands, he undoes the laces to your corseted dress. As the fabric opens up to show your lithe skin, he’s growing hard beneath his pants. You turn just a little to smile at him again, causing his heart to race.

“For a big executioner,” you simper, “you’ve got soft hands.”

His eyes widened, unsure of how to even answer that. He stares at you for a few moments, and you appreciate the dusting of pink on his cheeks. He looks so human like this, so much softer than you’ve ever seen him before, He’s sweeter than you’ve ever experienced him.

He leaves you to bathe in peace, and he begins to pace. How could you say something like that to him? Everyone fears him, everyone is petrified when they see him. Kenpachi makes babies cry just by looking at them. Women shield the eyes of their children as he walks by. Mothers make sure to tell their daughters never to fall in love with such filth as him.

And yet, here you are, the princess of the nation…and you’re flirting with him.

It causes him to have such conflicting emotions. He couldn’t just deflower you. You were a princess, even if your country and kingdom were in turmoil. One day, you’d be marrying a prince and having a love of your own. He’d have to let you go that day, which is a thought that terrifies him like nothing at all.

He looks up from his spot on the bed when you tiptoe your way into the room. A fluffy towel is wrapped around your body, hiding the beauty that lies underneath. 

“O-oh! I’m sorry, Sir Kenpachi. I had nothing to wear.”

He comes over to you, his eyes dark with something you’ve never seen before. It’s almost like he’s ready to execute someone, but it’s not quite the same. It’s a different look that you’ve never seen in his eyes before.

You can’t even think properly when he shoves you onto the bed. He thought he’d take it slow, but Kenpachi has been waiting for you for years. He’s been wanting this for so long, his cock is just aching. You moan as he presses his lips onto yours roughly.

“You’ve teased me for too long, little dove.” He grunts as he presses himself against you. You can feel his hardened member throbbing against you. “I need to have you.”

Your eyes widen and you try to protest, telling him that you’re pure and you intend to be pure on your wedding night. But nothing seems to faze him. Nothing seems to be clicking. Despite your feeble attempts at trying to get him off of you, you know you couldn’t deny him even if you wanted to.

“I’ve spent my life keeping you safe, my little dove. Do you really believe I’d stop now just because you are to be married off to some dumb prince who doesn’t know how to use his cock?”

The words excite you like nothing before. Your heart races in your chest; like a hummingbird’s wings flapping in the wind. You wrap your arms around his big frame, pulling him closer again. This time, you know you’re ready for a kiss.

“Teach me,” you beg him. “Teach me how to make love.”

He doesn’t need much more persuasion than that. He lays you down properly on the eiderdown bed and presses his lips to yours once more. This time it’s deeper and more sensual. When he slips his tongue into your mouth, he realizes just how inexperienced you are.  Your kissing is sloppy and messy, but it only serves to turn him on even more.

His large hands, that would so easily crush your skull, gently cup your face. Kenpachi takes the lead, showing you how to kiss in a passionate way. You learn quickly, but he finds you so eager. Even when you slip up and become sloppy, it turns him on,

“That’s a good girl,” his praise goes straight between your thighs. 

He then pulls off the fluffy towel, revealing your pretty body to him. Nobody has ever seen your body in this way before. Your perky nipples are begging to be sucked on. Your cute little cunt is concealed by a little patch of pubic hair. Kenpachi isn’t even sure where he wants to begin.

He starts with cupping your breasts, making you moan just for him. His thumbs brush against your nipples, and you shudder with each time they do that. He loves the sounds you make whenever he’s teasing you like this. When he dips down to capture one of your perky nubs between his lips, you feel your body growing warmer. It’s almost too much to just have him sucking on your nipples.

“You taste so good,” he murmurs against your skin. “Like roses…vanilla…”

Your heart skips a beat at his words. He takes his time, suckling and nipping at the swell of your breasts and your nipples. Then he begins to press sloppy kisses down your body before spreading your legs. Just the sight of your glistening cunt surrounded by the cute little patch of pubic hair really is driving him crazy. The executioner thinks he should take it slow, but the minute his tongue presses against your folds, he’s hooked.

With strong hands, he pulls you even closer. You squirm and thrash under him as he laps and slurps you up like you’re his last meal. Saliva and arousal smears all over the bottom half of his face. He’s grunting and growling as he devours you. 

“S-Sir! Oh I…” but you can barely say anything as all that falls from your pretty lips are moans and pleas.

Kenpachi looks up at you, and when your gazes lock, you swear you’ve never seen such a lewd sight before. Your body shudders as you feel something deep in your tummy. It’s like a pressure that keeps building. You don’t know what it is, but you feel like you’re almost chasing that sensation.

“That’s it, little dove. Let go for me,”

You aren’t even quite sure what he means, but you continue to chase the new feeling deep inside you. He wraps his lips around your swollen clit, suckling on it like it’s his favorite sweet. Suddenly, the coil in your stomach snaps and you’re crying out. Begging and pleading tumble from you like a desperate prayer. Kenpachi continues to suckle and lap at you, prolonging the pleasure even more.

Slowly, he crawls back on top of you. His clothing is shed without much care, thrown around the room. Then he spreads your thighs even more as you get a good look at his dick. It’s a lot bigger than you’d ever imagined. The tip is red and oozing precum, and you feel your mouth water as you look at it. You want to taste him, but it would seem he’s got other plans.

“Let me be the one to show you true pleasure,” he says as he lets the tip of his cock nestle against your entrance. “Let me be the one who knows you the most.”

You’re so touched by his sweet words. You don’t even know what to say. Tears sting your eyes, and Kenpachi smiles softly. He kisses you; this kiss is much more loving than the previous ones. Then he looks into your eyes once more.

“Please, be mine.” You finally mutter.

Very carefully, Kenpachi begins slipping into you. A surprised gasp is ripped from you as you feel your cunt being stretched. He hushes you with sweet kisses and words of praise. One of his hands comes down to begin rubbing your clit.

“Taking me so good, little dove. You’re doing well, you just need to relax, okay?”

You nod your head, unable to say proper words. You can barely think as his cock splits you in half. More and more of him goes into you, making you feel all these new sensations. You’ve never known pleasure like this before, and you can tell you could easily become addicted to this.

“Just like that, sweetheart.” Kenpachi breathes against your neck. He’s almost all the way in.

His eyes roll back as he feels the way your walls are already milking him. How could it be this good? He’s the virgin killer after all, he’s fucked all kinds of women. But you were the one who felt the best. You feel like heaven to him. Maybe it’s because he’s cared for you for so long.

“Sir Kenpachi—” he interrupts you.

“Just Kenpachi, sweetheart.”

You hiccup as your hand reaches down to your lower tummy. His eyes widen when he realizes what you’re doing. You're feeling the bulge that his cock is making as he slides into you fully. He bottoms out and his hand meets yours. A warmth passes over the both of you, and soon you’re both more aroused than before.

“That’s it,” Kenpachi praises as he begins thrusting into you. “You can feel me that deep.”

You have no words. You just begin mewling and panting like all the virgins do. Whenever Kenpachi fucks them stupid, he enjoys watching them become so corrupted by the pleasure. You wrap your legs around him, desperate to feel him even deeper. Kenpachi quickens his pace, his hands gripping your hips to pull you in closer with each thrust.

“You’re mine now,” he tells you before kissing you so deeply. “Nobody can touch you.”

Your heart swells with love. You find yourself clinging to him, begging him for even more. He happily responds to your demands with fucking you harder and faster, his thumb coming down to rub your clit. He knows you’ll fall off the edge quickly because he gave you an orgasm before this. He’s just not sure how much longer he can hold on when you feel this fucking good.

“T-that feeling again…” you pant out,

Kenpachi smirks, “Yeah? Don’t worry, just go with that feeling.”

You listen to his advice. The more he thrusts into you, the closer you get to that same feeling as earlier. Kenpachi growls as his pace gets even quicker and rougher. The headboard of the bed begins to slam against the wall as he fucks into you like an animal in heat.

“Cum for me!” He grunts loudly. “Let go for me, princess.”

The dam breaks, the coil snaps. You cry out loudly, your nails digging into his back as your orgasm hits you so hard. Your silky walls begin to clench and pulse around his big cock, making his balls draw up. He’s grunting like an animal as he chases his own high, and soon his hips stutter.

“Take it all,” he grunts. “Take my seed.”

His cock throbs within you as shots of his hot, potent cum fill up your waiting womb. He’s fucking it into you, slowing down the rocking of his hips as his high washes over him. Then he looks at you, noticing the look on your face. You’re just fucked out now.

“Perfect,” he praises before kissing you. “You’ll do well to be my wife now.”

[shadowtriovibes]

Hi! I absolutely love your fics! I have a little request/idea. Sebastian finds out that MC has a little crush on professor sharp and all of a sudden can’t stand his favorite professor. (His small crush on professor garlick is totally different and super justified)

jealousy, you got me somehow

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: Sebastian finds out about your little crush on a certain Potions master and all of a sudden can’t stand the man. (His small crush on Professor Garlick is, of course totally different and super justified.)

“You’re sure you won’t become too affected by Sharp’s dulcet tones and neglect something important?” he asks with a smirk. Annoyed, you huff and abandon your notes at your side. “You’ve been waiting several days to bring this up again,” you grumble. “I should’ve known I wasn’t safe.”

Sebastian first finds out about your little preoccupation when he innocently stumbles upon you studying with a group of your fellow Slytherin girls in a quiet corner of the library. Or at least, it was quiet until Nerida Roberts had started to derail your entirely legitimate conversation about the uses of Dittany for an upcoming Potions exam by bringing up Professor Sharp himself.

“He’s just so handsome,” she sighs dreamily. “How am I supposed to focus on what’s going on in my cauldron when he’s standing right across the room looking all brooding and roguish?”

Violet McDowell giggles and adds, “I could listen to him talk all afternoon and I wouldn’t learn a single thing!”

“I suppose that’s why so many seventh-year girls are still taking Potions even if they don’t need it for their N.E.W.T.s,” you murmur.

“Can you blame us?” Violet sighs. “You must admit, he’s quite nice to look at.”

“Of course I think he’s handsome,” you say with a scoff. “Just because I have a boyfriend doesn’t mean I can’t see the man.”

As if on cue, Sebastian comes around the corner carrying a large stack of books on defensive magic and spots the three of you huddled around your Potions notes.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” he says with an easy smile.

Sebastian sets his books on the edge of the table and leans down next to you to steal a chaste kiss while he can. He’s seen relatively little of you this week while you both prepare for exams in classes the other doesn’t have, so not even your late-night study sessions have overlapped.

“Speak of the devil,” Nerida teases.

“Shh!” you whisper. “Enough now.”

“Not keeping secrets from me, are you?” Sebastian asks teasingly as he snags one of the empty seats.

“Of course not,” you demur. “By the way, have you got my Potions notes from last week? I think I mixed them up with yours from Ancient Runes.”

Sebastian chuckles and asks, “Trying to change the subject? I must have walked into something quite scandalous.”

“It’s nothing bad,” Nerida says teasingly. “We were just chatting about Professor Sharp.”

“Oh?” Sebastian asks, surprised. “What’s he done now?”

“Nothing,” Violet McDowell answers. “We were just saying that he’s easily the most handsome professor at Hogwarts.”

“He’s certainly your girlfriend’s favorite,” Nerida says with a smirk.

Sebastian raises a skeptical eyebrow at you, and sure enough, you’re blushing.

“Really?” he drawls. “You have a thing for Sharp?”

“No!” you whine. “I just – I really like Potions class, that’s all.”

“Of course you do,” Violet taunts. “So you can moon over Sharp during his lectures!”

You shoot Violet a threatening look and not-so-gently kick the toe of your boot against her shin underneath the table. She yelps and curses under her breath before indignantly burying her face behind her Potions textbook, and Nerida wisely avoids eye contact and doesn’t offer anything further.

After a beat, Sebastian clears his throat and says, “Well then, I, er… suppose I’ll leave you girls to it.”

He helps himself to one more kiss goodbye and you can tell by the significant look he gives you before leaving that this is not the last you’ll hear from him about your crush.

Sure enough, a few nights later the two of you manage to claim a loveseat by the fire in your common room where you can curl up against his side and revise your Potions notes one last time before your exam while Sebastian dutifully transcribes runic diagrams onto lengths of parchment.

“Are you feeling prepared for your exam tomorrow?” he asks you casually.

“I think so,” you answer. “It’s not a practical, so I can’t imagine it will be too challenging.”

“You’re sure you won’t become too affected by Sharp’s dulcet tones and neglect something important?” he asks with a smirk.

Annoyed, you huff and abandon your notes at your side.

“You’ve been waiting several days to bring this up again,” you grumble. “I should’ve known I wasn’t safe.”

“What?” he laughs. “I’m just teasing you, love.”

You narrow your eyes at him skeptically. “I’m not sure I believe you.”

“Well, it’s just… I don’t really know what you see in him, that’s all,” he murmurs, lazily turning a page in his Ancient Runes textbook.

You frown. “What do you mean?”

“I just think he’s rather foul,” Sebastian says plainly. “He’s impatient, meticulous, he’s clearly got a dark past and I truly don’t understand why all you girls think he’s obviously the most handsome man at Hogwarts. To me, he’s simply average.”

Merlin’s beard, you think. You knew Sebastian wasn’t a fan of Hogwarts’ Potions master, but you had no idea his dislike ran so deep.

“I think he’s a good professor,” you offer quietly. “He’s always been quite helpful to me, especially when I needed to master healing potions, and he saved my life in the Repository.”

“How generous of him,” Sebastian mumbles.

Angrily, you sit up a little straighter and pluck Sebastian’s quill out of his hand so he’ll look at you.

“And what about you?” you demand indignantly. “While we’re on the subject of good-looking professors, I happen to know that you turn into a stammering, blushing fool whenever Professor Garlick is nearby.”

You know for a fact that Sebastian Sallow is not an idiot, which is why it’s all the more frustrating when he tries to deny something you’ve known about for months.

“I do not!” Sebastian protests. “That’s – that’s ridiculous.”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “You are not a subtle person, Sebastian, nor are you particularly good at being punctual, yet somehow you’re never late to the greenhouses.”

“W-well, I’m rubbish at Herbology so I like to make sure I won’t miss anything important,” he lies.

“Maybe you wouldn’t be quite so rubbish if you actually listened to the professor instead of staring at her chest for the entire lesson,” you grumble.

Sebastian goes bright red. Clearly, he had no idea you could see him doing that.

“Look,” he whines. “It doesn’t mean anything, I just think she’s nice to look at is all.”

“And I’m not allowed to think Professor Sharp is handsome?” you counter.

“It’s different,” he insists. “You actually like him, it’s not just an attraction.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you hiss.

“It means he’s a powerful wizard, a brilliant duellist and he’s a former Auror for Merlin’s sake,” Sebastian angrily confesses. “I couldn’t possibly measure up to that.”

You feel your heart break a little when you realize what this is truly all about – your love’s relentless insecurities, the same ones he’s battled for many years now.

Softly, you ask Sebastian, “Do you actually feel threatened that I might leave you for a professor? We’re seventeen, Seb.”

“It’s preposterous, I know,” he sighs. “But I just… I feel like I could never compete with him.”

“Sebastian,” you croon as you take your hand in his lap. “I want you to listen to me very clearly, alright?”

You wait patiently for him to meet your gaze before you continue.

“As you said, Professor Sharp is impatient,” you agree. “He’s also meticulous, and maybe he does have some darkness in his past. But you also said that he’s a brilliant duelist and a powerful wizard. Do you know who else has all those traits?”

Sebastian swallows nervously and squeezes your hand a little tighter.

“You do, love,” you say softly. “So perhaps the reason I’m fond of him is that he reminds me of you.”

“I’m not an Auror,” he points out a little sullenly. “And I’ve never saved your life.”

“Not yet you aren’t, but we both know that’s why you’re studying for Ancient Runes so much lately,” you say with a fond smirk. “And since I’ve saved your life plenty of times, I’m sure you’ll return the favor someday.”

Wordlessly, Sebastian tugs you against his chest and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs into your hair. “I’m sorry for being such a prat.”

“Apology accepted,” you whisper into his chest. “And I love you too, you fool.”

He holds you close for a while after that, nose buried in your hair while you listen to his slow, even heartbeat through his uniform shirt. When he finally lets you sit up so that he can kiss you properly – not one of those chaste ones from the library – you find yourself halfway in his lap before you even realize you’ve shifted.

For Merlin’s sake, your notes are in a messy pile on the floor now.

You huff and try to climb off of him to gather them up, but Sebastian coaxes you back to him with a single finger on your chin, his eyes firmly fixed on your lips. By the time he’s kissed your frustration away, you can’t even remember what you were supposed to be studying for.

“We should bicker more often,” Sebastian says with a satisfied grin, his lips slightly swollen.

“On that subject, I was just wondering…” you ask him with a teasing smile. “Is there anything Professor Garlick has that I don’t? Should I be worried?”

“Absolutely not,” he murmurs as he flicks open the top button of your shirt. “Truthfully, you both have two very nice things in common.”

“You’re foul,” you tell him simply.

“I meant that you’re both kind-hearted and beautiful,” he says smoothly.

You’re positive that you know exactly what Sebastian meant and appreciate the compliment nonetheless. In fact, he’s being so sweet that you even let him undo a few more buttons while you can take advantage of your seclusion.

The next day during your Potions exam, while your female classmates are undoubtedly slipping in and out of pleasant daydreams about your alluring professor, all you can think about is Sebastian’s lips on your neck and his hand inside your shirt as he’d whispered all sorts of electrifying promises about what he’ll do to you after you turn in your parchment.

It’s a fierce struggle to focus on Dittany of all things with that in the back of your mind, but Professor Sharp is nevertheless pleased when you end up being the first to submit your completed exam and then promptly excuse yourself from the dungeons.

[mostmouse]

Desperate Times

Hotaru's actions were calling for desperate measures. The man wasn't taking care of his wounds like he should be. You, being such a loving wife, have created a master plan of subduing and restraining him. All he has to do is give in.

(Hotaru x f!reader, explicit, 6,000 words, AO3)

In the days after Tanjiro had left the swordsmith village, things had calmed down but remained incredibly busy. Chief Tecchin was healing up, other swordsmiths helping him up to the hot springs for a daily soak, along with themselves. Many were injured and needed daily bandage changes, and burying those who you had lost in the demon attack weighed heavily on your soul.

You did what you could in the rebuilding, working from dawn to dusk, only returning home to sleep alone in your bed. Hotaru was still working on the special sword for Tanjiro, no matter how hard you worked to get him to rest. He had at least gone to the hot springs a few times with you to soak and heal - but in your opinion it wasn’t nearly enough.

The man was as stubborn as ever, but you wouldn’t thrive as his wife if you weren’t also incredibly headstrong. You’d been crafting into the late night on a way to subdue him and force him to let you care for his wounds. No doubt they were constantly reopening as he worked in his shack in the woods. Secluded away from everyone else, away from you, and keeping busy honing that damned sword.

After a couple weeks had passed, you had seen Hotaru twice and both times you were forcing him into the hot springs with the threat of breaking the sword while he slept. Not that you’d do something like that to a legitimately ancient sword, not that he needed to know that. But with how things were going, if it had been one he crafted and not a sword that carried the dreams of countless slayers and swordsmiths… You’d certainly consider it.

Stretching high, you stood from the table in your shared home, not that you’d shared it very much in the last few months. Grabbing the leather goods you had painstakingly crafted over the course of just barely an hour a day during the last few weeks of rebuilding, you also grabbed a tea set and placed it in a sturdy box before closing it all up tight and headed out to Hotaru’s workspace.

The village was coming along nicely, and everyone was gradually healing, some were even back to their full health. You were still sore, deep wounds healing nicely as you did what you could to support your fellow villagers. Rolling your shoulders, you tried to stretch out your stiff muscles. You hadn’t had much variety in work, and the repetitive actions were making you sore in other ways rather than your healing body.

However, conditioning could wait until after you looked after your husband. You knew he wasn’t caring for himself like he should. Did he even disinfect his wounds when you weren’t there? Heaven knows his eye needed special treatment that he most certainly wasn’t keeping up with. Your box had all sorts of healing items you planned to wrathfully unleash upon your dear love.

Approaching his shack, you hummed, heart fluttering at getting to see Hotaru. Even with as much of a handful as he was, he still unleashed a bundle of butterflies in your tummy every time. Smiling behind your mask, you made your way through the foliage, tilting your head as Kanamori opened and closed the door behind him, leaving the building with a shake of his head.

You lifted your hand in greeting, calling out to him. “Kanamori! Hey! What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in the village much.” His head swiveled in your direction as you called out to him, trotting over to you and waving as well.

“Ah, I’ve been helping Haganezuka. Well, sort of. I’ve been trying to at least. I know you’ve been checking in on him as well, but I always see you so busy in the village that I thought I would help as well.” He shook his head, sighing with his hands on his hips, “That man is too old to act this way. Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll get amnesia and forget all about swords. Then you could both retire and live happily.”

The two of you laughed, shaking your heads. “I don’t think there’s a force in this world that could ever make Hotaru forget even a scrap of his sword making knowledge. The second he woke up, he’d see the glint of steel and it would all come rushing back.” Kanamori sighed at your reasoning, agreeing immediately.

“You’re right. Oh well, who’s to say we can’t wishfully think?” Laughing once more, he pointed to your box as you calmed down, “What do you have there?”

Grinning behind your mask, you swayed side to side, “It’s a secret~” Leaning forward, the two of you snickered darkly, “I’m going to force him to obey me. That man is taking a break and letting me completely redress and sanitize his wounds. And then he’s going to kiss me and thank me for being so kind and loving to him.”

Kanamori covered his mask’s mouth, giggling. “I wish you the best of luck. I won’t come by for a bit to give you two privacy. Please, don’t hold back, he deserves no mercy.”

You nodded, clenching your fist, “I’m going to be completely ruthless. He’ll wish he had never married a harpy like me.” The two of you laughed happily, saying goodbye and parting ways.

Approaching the door Kanamori had just let himself out of, you slid it open and peered inside. As usual, it was dark and quiet, save for the sound of a whetstone. You smiled softly, letting yourself inside and closing the door behind you. Walking over to the desk, you lit the few oil lamps and sighed at the light. Finally, you looked down at your husband, working dutifully and unaware of the world around him.

It was charming, honestly. No matter how much he annoyed you and made you feel crazy, you admired his work ethic and determination. You dedicated yourself to your craft as well, but you knew you could never be at Hotaru’s level. Not that you wanted to, per se. Your marriage only had room for one clueless workaholic.

Making yourself comfortable, you pulled out the blanket and tea set from the box you carried. Laying it down flat, you smoothed out the wrinkles before lighting the small fire next to where Hotaru was working. Fishing out the small steel platform you had stowed here ages ago, you filled the pot with water, set it atop the stand, and let it boil.

You couldn’t help but sneak a glance at your husband, his mask obscuring his face as he silently worked. Sighing and shaking your head, you went back and prepared the tea leaves. Gathering a small glass jar, you tugged out some herbs and crushed them, adding them to Hotaru’s tea bundle in his cup.

You were sure this would be able to take down your burly monster of a man. They were powerful sedatives you had been using with other villagers to help prepare the wounded for surgeries that were needed urgently. Humming quietly, you contently prepared everything, going over and fluffing up the bedding that you’d soon have Hotaru in.

Finally, as the teapot began to whistle, you sat next to your husband and bumped him with your body. When he didn’t react, you reached up and tugged off his mask and bandana. “Hotaru~ I’m here with some treats for you.”

Once his handsome face was exposed, you leaned over and scattered kisses across every expanse of skin you could reach, petting his thick mane of hair. With one final kiss to his shoulder, you grabbed the teapot and prepared the tea, carefully noting which one was drugged. Finally, you brought out your secret weapon: dango you had spent the morning making.

It didn’t take long before Hotaru began sniffing the air. The homely aroma of the tea and sweet scent of the dango catching his attention. Whipping around, his good eye settled on you before immediately zeroing in on the treat in your hand. “Hotaru~ won’t you come eat with me, my love?”

With a grunt, he placed the blade down carefully, making his way over to the soft blanket and sitting down gruffly. Taking the dango from your hand he looked at it intently before his shoulders relaxed and a light blush covered his cheeks. Biting into it, he sighed, smiling slightly as the taste flourished on his tongue.

Humming, he looked down at the tea cup. Swallowing his mouthful of dango, he brought the tea to his mouth, blowing slightly before drinking it. You watched him with a fond, lovestruck gaze. “I’m so glad to see you, I miss getting to look at you, you know. I’m not sure if you remember, but I’m your wife.”

You laughed softly at his pout, interrupting as he opened his mouth, “I love you, you silly man. You know I admire your craftsmanship, but I wish you’d take even a second for yourself.” You frowned slightly, tilting your head, “The bandage over your eye is filthy. Let’s go to the hot spring and soak for a bit, okay? I’ll let you have your way with me~”

Winking, you pressed a palm to your cheek, trying to lure him in. However, he merely finished off his dango and grabbed another stick from the dish between you. You may or may not have also drugged the treats on the plate. “No. I have work to do.” You growled at the complete dismissal. “Kamado will soon begin his conditioning training at the butterfly estate. I need to make sure his sword is ready before then.”

You pouted, crossing your arms and huffing. “You can’t finish the sword if your eyes fall out, Hotaru.”

“My eyes won’t fall out, only one is damaged. Besides, that wouldn’t stop me.”

“The infection will spread inside of you and you’ll keel over.”

“I’m much too strong for something so small to kill me.”

You groaned at his petulant answers. “I’m gonna tell Chief Tecchin you’re out here working on that blade while your body enters necrosis.” He huffed, turning his head away and finishing off his tea. “And…” You clenched your fists, “I’ll tell him you made me cry with your horrible words and actions.”

At such a claim, Hotaru balked, whipping his head to you, “I’ve done no such thing!”

You stuck your tongue out, internally bewildered how he was still standing, even as he finished his second dango. “All’s fair in love and war, dear. I’m not above lying and scheming to get my way.”

The swordsmith huffed, standing quickly and turning back to his work station, “You can stay and do what you want, but I’m-” He stumbled slightly, and you grinned maliciously, rubbing your hands together. “I-I’m getting… back to… work… on this…” His words trailed off, and you immediately dashed to be in front of him, catching his massive body with yours and a sharp cry as you strained to hold him.

However, to your shock, he was still just conscious enough to speak to you, “Woman… what did you do to me?”

You groaned loudly, helping him onto his knees and nudging him backwards, “I’m making you rest, Hotaru. I need to clean your bandages. You’ll be up and going soon enough, just- give in already!”

Straining against his muscled body, you tried to shove him onto the bedding. However, even being massively drugged, he still fought back - although thankfully not anywhere near full strength. “No! I- don’t- need- rest!” With great effort he lifted you above him on his shoulder, wavering as you kicked your legs and slapped his back.

“Yes, you do! You big dumb meanie! Just lie down!” You anchored your feet on his waist before throwing all your weight to the side, rejoicing as he fell over with you. “Good boy! Now, get on the bed!”

His eye was fluttering as he tried to fight you off, movement becoming lethargic. Finally, he gave in and let you push him onto the bedding. He glared up at you from where he lay, “Just remember… I can take… what you dish out. But you,” He closed his eye, breathing evening out as his body relaxed, “Can’t ever handle… what I give back.”

Soon, his soft breathing was all you could hear, and you sighed in relief. That was always going to be the most difficult part of the endeavor. You ignored his last words, confident in the plan you had concocted over countless sleepless nights.

Grabbing one of the scrap steel rods around the shack, you dug a small hole and sat it there before grabbing a mallet and hammering it in. About halfway, you sat for a moment of rest. Taking a sip of your long cold tea, you gave yourself a few more moments before continuing your task. Once the rod was in the ground and you couldn’t move it even with all your strength, you went back to your bag of supplies.

Cheering as you grabbed thick leather straps, you held them up in the light. They were your pride and joy, having tanned the skin and crafted them specifically as restraints for your insanely strong husband. Looping them around the stake in an intricate knot, you secured them around his wrists, padding them with flexible medical tape beneath them beforehand.

Tapping his chest happily, you stripped his kimono off and finally started to unwind the bandages scattered around him. Gently dabbing them with disinfectant, you lovingly stroked salve on them and started to rebind them. Scooting around him, you sat his head on your soft warm thighs, pulling up your kimono so he had skin to skin contact. You blissfully ignored his thick arms as you pushed them aside, tied to the stake you had drilled into the ground.

You took great care with his damaged eye the most. You took your time in cleaning his face of dirt and oils before disinfecting the area. Humming softly, you leaned down and scattered kisses all across him before tugging his hair up and binding his eye once more.

Smoothing your hands across the soft white bandages, you whispered sweet nothings to him softly. “You’re such a silly man.” Petting his hair, you gently eased the tangles and knots out. “I wish you’d let me take better care of you, you always take care of me when I’m hurt.” Sighing, you leaned further forward, pressing the bandages on his torso, checking for any fresh blood. “I love you more than you know, you’re my whole world, Hotaru.”

Settling back down on your legs, you braided his hair before moving away. Packaging away the medical supplies, you placed the box on a workbench. You could probably keep them here since he wouldn’t leave the shack for at least another week or two. Finishing up everything you wanted to do, you looked back at your wonderful husband.

Trailing your eyes up his handsomely fit body, you shrieked as you met his open eye, staring you down. You couldn’t tell how he was feeling, his face stoic and gaze unwavering. “Ah! H-Hotaru, you’re already awake! That didn’t take long…”

Your voice was nervous, you were expecting him to start shouting, to wake up animated and upset as he usually did when you pulled stunts like these. You laughed to ease the silence in the shack as he continued to stare unblinkingly at you. Taking a hesitant step forward, you waved your hand timidly, “Ah, Hotaru? Can you hear me? Maybe you’re still asleep-”

Face twisting into one of effort, you screamed as he flexed his bulky arms, muscles straining as his cheeks turned pink with effort. “Stop that! You’re gonna reopen your-” However, with a loud roar, he pulled the steel stake clear out of the ground, leather bindings keeping him tied to it.

Speechless, you stood still as the rod clattered against the ground, Hotaru’s arms relaxing, letting out a long sigh. Pouting, you shouted in frustration, running out of the shack. Your husband’s eye widened, “Hey! You can’t run from this!”

Using his teeth and hand, he managed to untie one wrist and then the other, the rod landing on the ground heavily. Growling, he marched out of the shack, sword forgotten and the only thing on his one track mind being you.

“Where did you go?! I know you aren’t far, my wife wouldn’t abandon her target so easily.” Listening closely, he tried to make out any man made sounds, ignoring the rustling of the leaves and branches swaying in the wind. Finally, he saw a bush move as if it were trembling. “I see you. Come out.”

You held your breath, fists clenched in your lap as you sat there petulantly. You couldn’t see him through the thick foliage, but you could sense him near you. And of course, him being your hot headed lover, he wouldn’t leave without his prize in his possession.

“Don’t make me come get you, I’ll be much less gentle if I have to.” His voice wasn’t nearly as mad as you thought he would be, considering you drugged and restrained him.

Huffing to yourself, you peered over the top of the bush, glaring at him, your eyes shining in the setting sunlight. “No.”

Hotaru growled, face flushing, “And why not? I’m the only one here who’s allowed to be upset in this situation, what are you pouting about?” You balked at his accusation, pouting further.

“I am not pouting! And I can be mad, too! First of all, do you know how hard it was to get that stupid pole in the ground? And- and- you just rip it up! No problem! Ignoring how I wrapped you all back up again!”

Stomping towards you, the swordsmith stopped just before the bush, “Is that it? That I’m stronger than you? We both know-”

“That’s not it!” Your cheeks grew warm, frustrated tears gathering on your lashes, “Hotaru! You’re so- so-!” You stood finally, angrily stepping over the shrubbery and poking him in his chest, no force behind your hand. “I’m worried about you! You shouldn’t be straining yourself so hard!”

He leaned down over you, intense amber eye watching you, “If you hadn’t tied me to it-”

“I shouldn’t have to tie you up! Let me help you! You’re still wounded!” You threw your hands in the air, shouting in frustration, “Or don’t! Die for all I care! You’ll get some weird infection that’ll necrosify your muscles and you’ll wither away!”

Turning on your heel, you huffed as you walked away. However, to your irritation, your husband grabbed your wrist, obviously not content to leave the conversation like it was. “That’s not true and you know it.”

You refused to look at him, trying to tug your arm away, although there was no real effort behind it, either. “See, you’re not even trying. You barely touched me when you pointed at me earlier, as well.” You let yourself be dragged back towards him, melancholy slowly blooming in your chest as his massive arms wrapped around you from behind. “I was awake before you noticed me. I heard what you said.”

Feeling him take a few deep breaths, he groaned behind you, words tight, “I’m sorry I haven’t let you take care of my wounds. And I’m sorry I haven’t come home to you.”

You went limp in his arms, letting him hold you closer as your hands came up and rested on his forearms that held you. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tied you down like that.”

Hotaru quirked his brow, “Aren’t you going to apologize for drugging me?”

You huffed, turning your head, “No. I’m not sorry for that. That was necessary and I’d do it again the second you turned your back.”

Surprisingly, Hotaru began laughing softly behind you, his chest shaking you as he did so. You blinked, confused, before you began laughing with him. Wiggling your shoulders in a way to tell him you wanted him to turn you, you finally met his warm golden gaze. “I love you, ‘Taru. More than anything ever.”

Quieting down, he stared at you lovingly. Leaning down he kissed you softly, letting your hands stroke the loose braid of his hair. Pulling away, he lifted you into his arms, kissing you as you began to protest, “Carrying my wife won’t hurt me.”

You sighed, resting your head on his chest as you stared adoringly up at him. “We’re two crazy people, huh?” That had your husband huffing in short laughter, shaking his head.

“We’re lucky to have found each other.” You smiled softly, kissing every expanse of skin as you could reach. Hotaru leaned down as he entered his workspace once more, setting you down on the bed as he went back and closed the door. You started to get up until he shot you a glare. Stilling, you looked up at him in question. “I think you should make it up to me. Seeing how you interrupted my work, drugged me, harassed me…”

Laughing incredulously, you gave him a look. “Make it up to you? And how exactly should I do that, Mr. Haganezuka?”

The massive man in front of you merely smirked, licking his lips. Letting his hand caress your cheek, he soon found his way and tangled up in your hair. Giving it a tug, he made you look up at him from your knees. “Surely you can think of something, Mrs. Haganezuka.”

You whimpered softly, shining eyes looking up at him. “As long as you don’t overexert yourself.�� He smiled softly, assuring you he wouldn’t before you scooted forward on your knees. “Good. Well then, let me make it up to you, my love.” His cheeks flushed slightly as you tugged at his baggy work pants, long since stained and patched over a dozen times.

Kissing his belly, you pulled down the fabric bit by bit, until finally his semi hard cock was freed and they pooled around his ankles. Slipping them off, along with his shoes, you then gently removed his socks as well, kissing his knees once you finished. Hotaru covered his face with one hand, the loving and intimate gesture flustering him.

You hummed, kissing his thighs as you peered up at him, “So cute~ My husband is the most wonderful man in the country. I’m the luckiest person to have had the honor of marrying him.” With a smile still on your lips, you brought one hand to hold his shaft gently, listening as he hissed.

Licking his underside up to his tip, you kissed him there cutely, making a loud smooching sound. You loved being able to do this, to help him feel good. You knew he didn’t bother getting himself off when he wasn’t with you, always too focused on his work. Occasionally he would take you during his work, but almost always it was when you were at home together.

Slipping the tip of his cock into your mouth, you swirled your tongue around him, petting the underside where you knew he was sensitive. He sighed above you, hand tangling in your hair as he rocked his hips forward a bit. Along with his muscle and weight gain over the months, his cock had swelled as well, filling out your mouth and throat deliciously.

You moaned as you took him deeper, eyes closing as you tasted him. Soon, he was panting above you, your hot wet mouth slipping him in and out. It wasn’t as good as your cunt, but he adored seeing you on your knees for him, especially knowing what a prideful person you were, how you could be compared to him in hotheadedness - yet here you were. Happily sucking him off on your knees, and soon you’d be spreading your legs and begging him to be inside you.

Moaning loudly, he held the back of your head and sunk deeper into your mouth, tip reaching the back of your throat. You smiled, eyes opening and peering up at him. One hand squeezed and rubbed the base of his shaft as the other held his package in your hand. He was heavy and full, further proof he hadn’t touched himself in some time.

Wiggling in your spot, you pulled back, popping him from your mouth as you licked along his shaft. He leaned forward, bracing one palm against the wall of the shack as the other held your hair. He watched as you licked all around his cock, hand tracing his veins as you made your way to the base of him. Nuzzling his dark bush, you met his eyes once more, dipping lower to kiss and lick his package.

Hotaru moaned, letting his head fall back and his eye close, basking in the feeling of you lavishing him with your mouth. You hummed, laughing softly before licking and sucking on his tight bundle. Kissing him all over, you slipped to the other side before repeating yourself.

Your hands didn’t stop, massaging where your mouth wasn’t and gently jerking him off. You whispered his name softly, listening as he moaned in response. Lips curling into a broad grin, you left his package and went back to swallowing his cock. He moaned louder, hand twisting in his hair as you slipped him nearly all the way into your throat.

He gave you time to adjust to him, knowing it had been some time since you’d last had him in your mouth. Panting as you worked him deeper, he moaned as you whined around him, gagging softly. Your wide eyes watched him as you continued to suck him off, head bobbing as you relaxed your throat and took him all. Hotaru moaned loudly as he bottomed out in your mouth. Soft package against your jaw.

He watched you as he tugged your hair, pulling free from your mouth before holding you still and pressing back inside. You moaned loudly, eyes rolling slightly before he repeated himself. Seeing as you moaned and grabbed his thighs, not fighting back against him, he took control, hands holding the back of your head as he began to fuck your face.

Panting, he quickly became a moaning mess, cock slipping down your throat with each thrust. You gagged and drooled around him, muffled sounds echoing around his shaft as he fucked you fast. Your nails bit into his skin as you cried out around him, hips wiggling as you sat on your legs on the bedding.

Hotaru grit his teeth, hissing as he felt his climax coming. Gasping for air, he cried out as he bent forward a bit, hands pressing against the base of your head, tilting you up slightly. You moaned loudly, the wet sounds of him fucking your mouth mixing in with your own pleasured noises. “Fuck!” His voice was rough, pulling your hair as he tossed his head back.

You whimpered, nails scratching him as he pounded your throat. With another loud shout, he finished inside, filling your mouth and throat with hot cum. You moaned longingly, tears slipping past your lashes and gasping for air through your nose.

Hotaru panted above you, his hips moving much slower as your tongue pushed against his shaft and licked up all the cum around him. Hissing as you slowly began to overstimulate him, he held your hair and pulled himself from your mouth, gasping as he was freed and letting his head fall back once more.

You coughed softly, rasping breaths leaving your shining lips before you wiped your mouth. Looking up at him, you hummed softly until he met your gaze. “Is that all my sweet husband wants?” You licked your lips, giggling as he glared at you.

“You don’t know when to quit, do you?” You squealed as he kneeled down, twisting your hair in his fist before he leaned down and bit your neck. You cried out as he moved his mouth over you, biting, kissing, and sucking your skin. “If you think that’s enough to make it up to me, you’re more deluded than I thought.”

You gasped, slapping his back before moaning as he slipped his hand between your legs. “H-Hotaru~”

Letting him readjust you, you sighed as you soon found yourself on your back. Easily, your husband stripped you down, repeating your earlier actions with just as much love and kindness. You writhed subtly, excited to see how he would take you. “Remember to be careful of your wounds, okay?”

He huffed as he slid between your soft thighs, immediately grabbing your legs and spreading them wide apart. You squealed, covering your face as he exposed you. Smirking at your sudden bashfulness, he brought you closer to him. Hotaru couldn’t help but sigh at the intense heat radiating off your wonderfully soaked cunt.

Whining, you wiggled your hips, peeking at him through your fingers. When he didn’t move, you pouted, folding your arms under your chest and making your breasts bounce. “‘Taru!” He raised a brow, looking down at you as his cock rested against your slit.

You whined louder, trying to wrap your legs around his waist but his hands wouldn’t budge from their tight grip on your ankles. “Beg for it.”

His low gravelly tone had you moaning. “Please, Hotaru, please! I want you inside me, want you to fill me up and make love to me! Please, please, ‘Taru!”

He blushed suddenly, your sweet desperate voice echoing in his head. Sighing before smiling softly, he moved his hands to hold your thighs and slip them around his waist. Guiding his cock to your soaked cunt, he whispered gently to you, “I’ll make love to you as much as you want, my perfect wife.”

You sighed as he slipped inside you, arching your back and hands grabbing the soft bedding on either side of your head. “Hotaru~ You feel so amazing! I’ve missed you so much, you belong inside me.” Your flushed cheeks were hot as he rocked his hips gently into yours. Bracing his hands on either side of your head, holding your gaze as his hair tumbled down on either side of you, he began a gentle pace.

His cock barely left you before sinking inside you once again, listening as you sighed and moaned. Watching your chest instead, he picked up speed, watching as you bounced and cried out for him. He panted above you, stamina still not quite rebuilt but loving how it felt to press his hips against yours.

As he continued to fuck you, his mind wandered to all the nights he had spent along here in his workshop while you were all alone in your shared bed at home. Growling to himself, his eye flicked up to your expression. He moaned as you were smiling, biting your lip and crying out as he quickly fucked you. “Hotaru! Y-You feel so good, please don’t stop! Don’t ever stop- ahh!”

He groaned lowly, hand gripping one of your thighs and moving so it was pressed to his chest. Choking out a moan, he felt himself slip deeper inside you. You must not have been touching yourself on your own considering how tight your cunt was wrapped around him. Sweat gathered on his brow as he bucked his hips against you. “Fuck!”

Your heat was overwhelming, possessing every thought in his head as he forced himself deeper and deeper inside. with a harsh grunt, he grabbed your other thigh, pressing both to his chest as he leaned down close over you, folding you closer to yourself as he pressed deep inside you. “‘Taru! Fuck- ahh~ please!”

Dragging your nails down his back, he moaned lasciviously. He loved when you left marks on him, it made him want to expose his upper half more often, to show off the love marks his beautiful wife left on him for other smiths to see when they visited him as he was working. He loved how they became flustered or jealous, and it fueled his obsession with you. He loved knowing you marked him up and everyone else knowing that as well.

He cried out as you squeezed around him, “Fuck! I-I’m close-” His voice was strained, and he watched as you looked up at him adoringly, cheeks and body hot as you panted under him. You bounced with each powerful thrust, small moans leaving you every time. Squeezing his eye shut, his fingers twisted in the sheets, “C-Can’t-” He gasped for air, trying to hold back so you could finish before him.

Feeling your hands tangled up in his hair, he moaned as you pulled it, amber gaze meeting your own lustful eyes. “Want you to- ahh! Want your cum, fuck! Finish in-inside me, please ‘Taru! Fill me up, want it all, ahh~” Your wanton moans stoked the fire deep inside his belly, shoulders straining as he felt his climax approach.

With a loud moan, he burst inside you, hot cum filling you up. He continued his pace, thick cock stretching you out. He loved how he could feel how much hotter it made your messy cunt, your hips folded upwards so not a bit could escape. Slowing down to just rocking his hips against you, he moaned as you whimpered beneath him.

Your face was pinched, gasping and whimpering. “T-Touch me, please, ahh!” He quickly let one hand slip down between you, harsh rough callused fingers rubbing your warm silky clit.

Back arching, you pressed your hips tighter against his as he shuddered. Rubbing you harsh and fast, he whimpered and moaned as you clenched down around him, “Gonna cum! ‘Taru, fuck! Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t st- ahhh~” Your voice surrounded him, his hand faltering for only a moment before continued to rub you.

Changing between tight circles and pinching your clit, you bucked against him, whipping your head into the sheets, crying out his name loudly. He was sure if there was anyone remotely nearby, they’d be able to hear you. “Hotaru! Hotaru! Fuck!” Ripping the sheets in your hands, you finished on his semi hard cock.

Your husband cried out, shoving his fingers against your clit roughly, feeling himself be milked of the last bit of cum he still had. Bucking his hips, he whimpered as you squeezed him in a vice, hot wet cunt tighter around him than you had ever been. He gasped as he felt himself being easily overstimulated, especially considering you had sucked his soul from his cock earlier.

You panted as you came back down from your high, unfocused and bleary eyes staring up at the ceiling of the building as Hotaru slowly unwound your legs from his body. He swallowed thickly, throat dry as he finally laid you flat. Shuffling to the water jug he had in the shack, he poured some into the empty teapot, praying you had only drugged his cup and not the pot itself.

Crawling back towards you, he laid heavily at your side, propping you up slightly to pour water into your mouth. He watched as you drank slowly, pulling it away as you waved a hand to show you were done. Drinking some as well, he set it down carefully before dropping down next to you.

He dragged your body close to his, tangling the two of you up. His thoughts were blissfully empty as he hugged you tight. The only thing that mattered in that moment was that you were in his arms and happy. Kissing your crown, his gruff voice echoed in your empty head, “I love you. More than you’ll ever know.”

Watching as you passed out, he let his eyes close as well, the warm night air surrounding your heated bodies. Feeling the previous weeks of nonstop work and fatigue catch up to him, he let himself fall asleep as well. Perhaps when you both woke back up, and praying he wasn’t tied up once more, the both of you could soak in the hot springs.

[cometthecommon]

BOO win or lose oc

He’s a batter on the team and OH BOY hes a mess. Friends with everyone pretty much but he’s also a chronic people pleaser hence his POV gimmick being that his color changes depending on who he’s with. A chameleon in the most metaphorical and literal sense

Relationship chart between him and some of the other characters!!

he only particularly confides in Kai most of the time and even then it’s very rare that he’s legitimately honest and vulnerable with her, let alone anybody else.

with Rochelle, he respects and admires her work ethic, and is honestly a little jealous of how determined and hardworking she is.

as for Taylor, he kinda fears and respects her at the same time, mainly because he perceives her to be the ‘cool girl’ on the team. Because of this, he’s a little scared of making a fool out of himself in front of her. cam’s only really met Ira once or twice before, but thinks of him to be a good kid. Has thought about introducing him to D&D just because of ira’s sheer creativity.

as for Yuwen, Cam kinda fears him because he’s scared that A. He’s gonna say something to get made fun of, or B. Yuwen would rip his face off. Despite that, though, he admires Yuwen’s passion for Softball.

Laurie and Camarin aren’t particularly close, but Camarin does his best to try and hype her up when she’s feeling down about herself.

Spoilers below the cut(?)

so, yk how in the championship game, NOBODY’S having a good time?

well, neither is Cam. He’s torn between wanting to help people, focus on the game, etcetera, and it leads to him feeling so overwhelmed by everything going on and the innate need to HELP, he freezes. He doesn’t know what to do, and he can’t bring himself to move.

ANYWAYSSS yeah hes my silly :PPP

[true-blue-sonic]

I came across a post on character flaws that states such flaws are extremes of a positive trait, and one example was "trusting: easily manipulated or distrustful". It got me thinking about the Rivals games, where I'd argue Silver possesses both extremes simultaneously. Namely, he'll trust you, if you say what he wants to hear and show a full willingness to cooperate. And if you don't, Silver will very flippantly brush you off and keep going his own way. There's a lot of situations in the Rivals games wherein he just doesn't tell people what's going on or runs off while they're questioning him, which makes them race or fight him in turn. Not exactly a situation to create trust between parties.

I find it really interesting how that comes into play with Espio, mostly. Espio is sent specifically to gather evidence about Silver kidnapping Chao, which is what he confronts Silver with partway through Rivals 2. Silver expresses confusion about Espio's incredulousness on why he's kidnapping the Chao precisely, and Espio indicates he trusts Silver; and with just one more question from Silver ("Are you going to help then, or keep getting in my way?") their team-up has commenced. But Silver has not at all verified if Espio is legitimate with his trust! He doesn't even ask what made Espio change his mind or anything of the sort; he immediately goes to Espio helping him out. Espio could easily have lied about trusting Silver to team up with him, all the while gathering evidence on him and having him right there to be stopped should the need arrive. And I wonder if that thought ever crossed Silver's mind, and how he would have reacted should he have found out Espio is specifically sent to gather evidence of a crime he's committing (which he himself doesn't see as a crime: he's stealing Chao to save the world). I find the discrepancy between "Silver will trust you without question if you fully commit yourself to his cause and agree with what he's saying" and "if you don't, Silver will just not listen to you in turn and keep doing his own thing" very interesting as a potential "easily manipulated" versus "distrustful" kind of character flaw. It could make for an interesting story of someone who does not have Espio's good intentions trying to get close to Silver in that way to harm him down the line; I wonder how long it would take for him to realise?

[ominous-faechild]

( @theink-stainedfolk; I'm making a separate post for this since it's a little long and off-topic of the previous one lol)

CRICKET’S STRUGGLES HIT DIFFERENT. Bro really went "I’ll just artistic talent my way through magic calculus" and then got spanked by the academic grind. The allegory is crisp—nothing like institutional trauma to kill a childhood fascination! (Also dying at "only a tiny bit of legitimate interest"—what was the main reason? Peer pressure? Family drama? A bet? I’m nosy.)

Bro really went "I’ll just artistic talent my way through magic calculus"

So, yes and no!

In reality, Hugo has an absolutely rough backstory. Long story (kinda) short: everything changed when the fire nation attacked. Twice.

... okay, I jest. But only slightly.

TLDR; dude lost his father to a terrorist attack when he was young, joined a cult the Church of Veritheya after they provided relief efforts, turned to a lil bit of crime when the plague hit and his mother fell ill, got excommunicated, and got caught in a second terrorist attack. His sponsorship into the college was basically a combination "that's rough, buddy" from the government and a recognition of his artistic skills.

Cricket (Hugo) essentially used the academy as a lifeline that helped himself and his mother financially after a series of disasters tore their lives to shreds. Without the scholarships, they'd be screwed.

(Luckily, or unluckily, depending on how you see it LMAO, he ultimately ended up on the Siren's Call, which paid extremely well and definitely didn't help him meet the love of his life.)

(more following the "read more")

During Hugo's childhood, Minogua was plagued by a series of terrorist attacks within which the group would ignite vast amount of Minoguan cities at once.

One of its very first attacks destroyed his family's finances and saw the death of his father, though he hardly remembers the man (being as he was 6 at the time). Following the attack, the Church of Veritheya helped the government of Minogua with relief efforts, and took Hugo and his (loving) mother in to help them recover from the disaster.

... while helping them see The Wonders of Veritheya™, of course.

(Let me just say the Verithian Church is a VERY TRANSPARENT allegory to the Christian Church. And, more often than not, the bad side of it.)

Despite their struggles, Hugo and his mother managed to make a new life thanks to the Church. Things were almost going well... untilllll the plague hit. (Istg, this was a thing before 'irl events'.) Once again, the Church provided relief efforts... but they'd been unable (or unwilling?) to spare resources for his mother when she fell ill.

Sooooo Hugo got mixed in with "bad sorts" (read: criminals) to try to get everything he needed to take care of his mother.

Another long story short: things did not go well!

The royal guard got involved with the criminal stuff, but Hugo was let go after passing a magic truth-check confirming he had little to do with it all.

... but the Church wasn't so forgiving.

For his short stint working with criminals, Hugo and his mother were excommunicated from the Church... who they'd been living with and working for for all those years.

The two were shit out of luck... when they got caught in the devastation of second terrorist attack.

In better news: this second one reunited him with the head of the royal guard, who'd been sympathetic to him even before. This time, she used the facts that he was a good artist, that the family had been through a lot due to the crown's negligence, and the country's need for more wizards as an excuse to give him a scholarship for the academy.

So... long story short x3: the magic academy was his and his mother's ticket out of poverty. So, while he did have a genuine interest in it, there was massive pressure (not applied to him by the mother!!!) to succeed and help finally dig them out of that hole.

... which he'd in good part blame himself—and the Church—for.

(But Veritheya was great. It was just the Church that was messed up.)

Oh. And Hugo gets the (playfully teasing) name of “Cricket” while at the academy because of his ADHD humming/stimming while studying. Aaaaaaand because his Changes™ when using powerful magic give him buglike features.

I like planning out characters' lives, but also? I used to have a whole (out-of-date) story with this man as the MC. And might eventually rewrite it lol

[gofancyninjaworld]

No one is born knowing how to communicate

A: And that's okay...

Dr Kuseno made it look so easy. He just swanned into Saitama's apartment, proferred him a gift of beef and the hero's hostility melted away.

Fubuki felt positively foolish, and yet encouraged.

Since then, however, she's found that the only thing meat bribes pull in are dogs. Literal dogs:

And even dogs need more than meat to be loyal.

What gives? Well, it's obvious that Fubuki mistook Dr Kuseno's gift for a bribe: more on that later. Probably. And yeah, it's funny, but it's more interesting than that.

Learning how to communicate is complex. There are a ludicrous number of unspoken conventions and rules in every human society, so much so that we don't fully learn how to smile socially until we're in our forties. Dr Kuseno carefully judged his gift: he had a legitimate reason to offer Saitama a gift in the first place, out of gratitude for Saitama going out of his way to mentor Genos. Then he chose a gift Saitama would be sure to appreciate and presented it at a time when Saitama would be thinking about dinner. The worst that could have happened is that Saitama took the gift but insisted on the doctor going home (and taking Genos with him) -- it would still have left the desired positive impression. And things went really well. Kuseno made it look effortless.

Fubuki is only in her early twenties and her experience to date has been far from typical. She's learned that either she can intimidate people or she can flatter them into doing what she wants. With Saitama (and later Bang, Bomb, and Kuseno), she has to learn how to talk to more powerful people whom she cannot overpower, over whom she has no leverage, and who are unimpressed by her looks, simpering, or flattery.

Fortunately, Fubuki is nothing if not astute. She's worked out that she needs to develop complementary skills if she's to make herself useful to the S-Class heroes she wants to hang with. How to talk to them to get the help and cooperation she desires? Ah, that's a work in progress.

B: ...Unless it's not

Let's move onto another miscommunication.

Something that I hadn't before was that, unlike the webcomic version where Saitama only thinks to himself that Genos seems depressed, in the manga, Saitama out and out asks him if this is the case. He wants to know.

It mirrors King asking Saitama that very same question and getting Saitama to open up and be vulnerable for the first time (ever, in any version of the story). So it is very appropriate to see Saitama trying to do the same for Genos, particularly as he is openly fond of the guy.

However, it goes wrong. Saitama feels himself under pressure to say something wise to make it better. So he puts on his best 'confident' face and inadvertently makes everything much worse. Oh dear. What makes this particularly painful in the manga is that Saitama is much more invested in trying to reach Genos, and it's made Genos think that Saitama saying that he doesn't see what he's doing must mean that earlier times when he's praised him must have been just Saitama being nice. For sure, Genos could have pushed back and made Saitama clarify what he meant, but he's even worse at communicating: and Saitama's glib remark about being bright struck him square in the insecurities.

I'm going to come to something that I only realised once I started typing this up. Even though I've pointed out their abilities to communicate, neither King nor Kuseno have the perfect words to say. Kuseno started out by first committing a faux pas in bringing his great big outside boots into Saitama's flat, then nearly boring Saitama to death with a long-winded explanation. King started out by trying to guess what was bothering Saitama. Both, however, did the most important thing about effective communication: they picked up on their going wrong and changed tack.

It's not about saying the right thing: it's about responding to the person you're talking to.

The thing that King did that Saitama was trying to do for Genos was to ask Saitama open questions, and shut up in the interim, letting Saitama talk to fill in the silence. He'd only speak to ask more open questions when Saitama ran out of things to say, and through that, gently started to challenge Saitama's thinking.

But doing so means being comfortable with several seconds of silence. And that is excruciating. It is almost irresistible to jump in and say something, anything. And it would have been a longish wait, for Genos to slowly sit down and decide to start speaking, which might well have started being about something only tangentially related to his worry. King did that for Saitama: Saitama started out talking about what was bothering him on the surface -- being too strong -- before eventually coming to what was really bothering him, feeling lonely and profoundly isolated from everyone around him. Saitama does not yet know how to wait a person out.

It's a problem in this case because it's introduced a big barrier between those two, not an insurmountable one for sure, but one that could easily compound later.

Ah well, no one is born a communicator. We just have to wait and see if they work out a way to open up and be honest with each other. So it goes! There's more ways to introduce conflicts than to have a monster trample Tokyo, after all!

And so help me, the struggle to learn how to communicate is 1000% worthwhile.

[revoltrebel]

We The People Must Unite!

We The People Must Command Our Right!

We The People Must Ignite!

We The People Must Win This Fight!

When We The People Unite.

When We The People Fight.

When We Dismantle The Wrong With The Right,

We The People Will End Our Plight.

DM To Join The Official Plan of Action On Discord

I think EVERYONE needs to read this. Especially parents! For the sake of the future happiness and equality for their children in their own pursuit of happiness.

Luigi:

I believe He let himself get caught. Possibly even told the employee to report and collect. He ate his meal and waited patiently. He supposedly had the 🔫, the suppressor and his manifesto on him. He is martyring himself to fan the flames of revolution 🫡

I thought it was obvious 🤷🏻‍♂️ He is a man with a very blatantly obvious plan/message. He knows there HAS to be a martyr. It’s how revolutions truly begin.

Freedom and fairness in living and the pursuit of happiness. Capitalism has become a greedy dirty monster. Puppeted by the elite and their govt cronies. Using radical ideals from both sides of the aisle to keep Us, “the common poor citizens” at each others throats instead of realizing who the real enemy and threat really are. To keep us down and struggling just to survive when we should be thriving. Together. They need to be stopped. Only We can stop them. United We Win.

Anyone who knows me personally, knows I’ve been jabbering about the 2nd American Revolution since I was a god damn child…

I thought that this was how I’d react when it came…nonchalant, watching it all unfold with a smug “I told ya so look on my face”…

Now I know.

I want to fight.

I want to make change happen.

I want to surround myself with others of the same ilk

To bring 💀 to the system, we must first bring 💀 to those that control it Deny Defend Depose 🫡

Will you join me?

🫡

Deny Defend DEPOSE! Rise, organize, prepare and FIGHT TOGETHER! This NEEDS to happen! I’m rising. I WILL fight back! Will you join me?

WE need to have EACH OTHERS backs. Ants Vs Grasshoppers. Nobody but OURSELVES are going to make any change happen. Rise up TOGETHER. No matter the religion. No matter what side of the aisle. It’s always been Up Vs Down and they have used EVERYTHING to keep us divided. United WE WIN.

Sorry but I am LEGITIMATELY TRYING to gather Us ALL up and actually do something. Need as many as possible to help and be ready to actually fight. People who aren’t scared. People who are tired and angry at the elite and their government cronies and are WILLING to do what TRULY NEEDS TO BE DONE

Deny Defend DEPOSE!!!