#i feel like this is potentially going to be the breaking point in my polite friendship with her

[lupismaris]

Lmao okay okay white cishet social manager has now been added to the DEI Pride planning meetings which frankly is important to ensure shit is done right I’m attending as the multi-tool queer of the division and comms administrator/quartermaster who’s main role is holding the comms team accountable (my supervisors/head of comms words not mine) so my goal of making sure our Pride and LGBTQIA+ history month campaigns aren’t reductive capitalist rainbow washed nonsense is still a go

[telanadasvhenan]

thinking more about the psychological aspect of solavellan, and before I start, I'd like to stress that this is NOT CRITICAL of it, I actually think it's what makes part of the dynamic interesting. My word isn't the be all and end all, however, this is just my musings on the topic :] Also, REALLY long post! so, more under the read more lol

From Lavellan's point of view, I would personally struggle to see her trusting another lover or close one again for a long time, if ever again. I don't really think people ever talk about the real impact of the things she goes through, or what solas put her through, and the hurt as a result of it. The relationship is never defined between the two of them, it's always spoken about in vague undetermined words from their companions and poetic elvish between the two of them. Are they lovers? companions? partners? it's really up to the player. Leliana says that "you were close", Sera says Lavellan is "in it." Vhenan means home, heart, it's not a word said lightly imo and he tells you he loves her by their second kiss. It's never an official thing, so how secure can Lavellan truly feel?

This could go both ways when it comes to the break up. Crestwood, as a scene, is so interesting to me because the first portion seems like a man brought to his knees by weakness for the woman he loves. The two of them never cease to touch, fingers entwined, shoulders brushing, skin to skin. It's so reminiscent of how Lavellan matches his Hallelujah cadence. They're two parts of a song singing together. It's a gorgeous scene and it's understandable how so many are angry at how it ends because the whiplash between how it starts and what it leaves you with is severe. Imagine this from lavellan's shoes.

You're desperately in love with someone at odds with your people, who is wonderful and enticing and smart. Loving solas feels like loving the whole world, like being free and connected with the stars. But you don't know what this is. And, if you thought you did, how far can you presume? Is Lavellan always on edge, scared to love him deeper and richer than he loves her? or is she in a false sense of security, assuming his affection is forever hers. So when he not only breaks away your faith and trust in your history, plus potentially the vallaslin, she is clearly deeply upset. This isn't a minor fact that simply can be swept aside. The vallaslin is important. And Solas, even with the best intentions, has hurt her. He knows it and there's a reason why he apologises (bc he wimped out on the real truth). How much more does he know about her people that he has refused to tell her or kept from her by omission? Can you imagine the embarrassment, the utter humiliation of that secret? how many memories of them together where she replays his distaste for her people in her mind, knowing that he has access to knowledge that could change her perception of her past? Its ALOT. and thats even before the breakup.

Solas is not kind about the break up. It's rushed (impulsive to me) and doesn't do their connection justice. His composure cracks in places and it's very unlike him. It absolutely blindsides the player, so imagine being in Lavellan's place, AFTER THE VALLASLIN? personally, I wouldn't have been able to function. I half suspect that a sad, calm Lavellan is also in shock or disassociation. Because how else do you cope? The lack of communication between them alone is enough to raise my eyebrows. He promises answers. He confides that she saw through his mask and doesn't tell her what was real, and what was fake. He has given her a kernel truth whilst keeping her in the dark. Everything he told her could be a false, imaginary polite mask or it could be the truth. Where does it end? Where does he begin? Where does she stand?

I don't know if everyone has experienced what it's like to be ghosted or for a friend to simply disappear one day, but it changes you. I say this as someone who has both been avoidant as well as anxious, but you never recover. Someone disappearing like that makes you doubt any reassurance that people won't just evaporate from your life. So when Solas just disappears, the game's single conversation with Leliana feels a little lacking to me. I understand that they can't really dedicate a lot to it, I get that, so I'd like to fill it in. At first, it's search parties. Solas wouldn't just leave her like that. He promised her answers. He started another mural just before they left for corypheus. He didn't intend to just leave, surely.

Days, weeks and months pass. The question is worse than the truth. Is he dead? Did he use them? Was he being truthful when he spoke to her in those ruins, or another polite mask he could hide behind? Is it better if he's dead or better than he didn't deem her worthy enough to even say goodbye? We, as the players, obviously know this isn't true, but she doesn't know that. Does your lavellan assume the worst and be overcome with grief that her one love, her heart, her home, was nothing more than a lie of omission? or is there anger there at his betrayal of her trust once more? I seriously doubt it was easy to forget or dismiss. That kind of disappearance ruins your trust with people. Something. Anything would have been enough.

Again, this is all my opinion on how these emotions would play out and DEFINITELY NOT canon nor do they have to be! But I seriously struggle to see how Lavellan could even come to heal from these wounds within even a two year time skip. By the time of trespasser, almost everyone has left her side. She's almost entirely alone again, save Cullen and Josie (and leliana if she's not divine). And thats okay: they all have rich lives to return to. But that must just reaffirm to her that no one will stay. She is alone. How does she trust again?

And then there is Fen'harel. Lavellan's reaction to fen'harel has always lacked the fear I kind of hoped would be there? I mean this isn't just a minor deity, this IS THE antagonist of her entire faith. I'm assuming that she's lost hope in the gods, even though it's confirmed to her that they're real, but that message has been a part of her since childhood. So learning that he is the dreadwolf, again not from him, but from the fragments of his past must cut her deeply.

Her love was never who he said he was, she knows this, but who is the real man? She's never known him in a context where he can truly show her. Her love is fragmented between each identity he holds. Her trust that he is who he said he is fragments with it. The knowledge that not only has he been watching the inquisition, her, for years without a single hint that he lives or is okay must destroy her. Could you imagine how insignificant you must feel to him? And he essentially affirms to her that yes, in the greater scheme of things, his love and hers are inconsequential. They cannot matter to him because he cannot strive from his path. His indulgence was a mistake. And it's undeniably cruel. I love solas and I cannot argue that he was kind to Lavellan because he wasn't. To me, there is no way to see his actions as kind. Understandable, absolutely and definitely without malicious intent.

Lavellan learns that he loved her just as deeply, if not more. He loved her with all his heart and it did not matter. She changed him and it has only brought him more pain. He loves her too much to even allow her near him, to even give himself that weakness. They are apart from each other in an endless distance, only the two of them in the world. No one else.

Obviously, each Lavellan is different, and I've made a lot of assumptions, but I think it's worth considering. How do you love someone again after all of that? How much can you rebuild your faith after what you have learnt. Lavellan has loved a "god" (I know he's not a god, but for all intents and purposes, he has the power of a god and wears an evanuris crown.) and in turn, a god has loved her. And he left her with one last embrace that will leave its mark on her forever, then he leaves once more. Lavellan is alone.

Each love after is met with suspicion, distrust and comparison. Lavellan is entirely changed. How many pieces of her can be taken away until she is no longer herself? Each person wears a new mask she cannot determine. Where do they begin? Where can she find herself?

How lonely it must be to love someone like Solas and be at the other side of an endless distance.

[marvelsswansong]

Imagine corio seeing a woman flirt with r he’s so confused cuz he’s used to disgusting men after her only

no but like seriously 🌞👉👈

Corio isn't oblivious to the fact that there is a price for dating someone as beautiful as you. Namely, that others - doesn't matter if they're complete strangers or close working colleagues - will secretly want you, with some of them even being bold enough to try and entice you.

This is all much to his annoyance, as he tries being very public about the fact that you're his. Think constant arm around your waist, aggressive kisses in public, loudly calling you 'darling' from across the room. But that doesn't seem to deter everyone.

Especially not the types of men in the Capitol.

If he's feeling calmer that day, he might just stop at glaring at the man whilst pulling you away by the waist, or knocking the breath of you by suddenly grabbing your face and kissing you fiercely for the crowd of men to see. If he's in a sour mood, or it's been a hard week, you have to be careful to keep an eye on the blonde in case he flies into a fit of rage and his mind starts to scan the room for whatever is sharp and capable of causing damage.

"Sometimes I feel as if I have to babysit you." you would tease after one particularly harsh night, where you and Corio get thrown out of a house party after he smashed another man's face into the wall and then proceeded to twist the man's arm to the point of almost breaking a bone. Granted, the man had been extremely aggressive towards you and making very inappropriate comments, but it'd been rather awkward to see the stranger be carried onto an ambulance whilst the head of the household ordered the both of you out.

Chest heaving and knuckles still bruised from the impact, he'd just kiss you again, his tongue tasting of copper.

"Can't help it. You're too pretty." he whispers, and all your criticisms of him would fly out the window.

But Coriolanus is always less guarded when it's a woman around you. After all, you have so many best friends who are women, you spend so much time around grandma'am and Tigirs, and so on. He just associates women being around you with platonic love and comfort.

So when you leave him to go get some drinks at the bar, a fancy upper east side bar you've been begging to go to, he's too busy searching the room for potential men who approach you to notice the red haired woman beelining towards you. She bumps into you 'on accident', pink champagne spilling over the tip of the glass just a bit - a light splash on your jeans, but nothing too bad.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry." she quickly says, grabbing a nearby napkin to hand it off to you. Coriolanus watches the interaction from the back of the club, the specifics of your conversation with her unintelligble over the loud music, but he doesn't think anything much of it. Even when the auburn haired woman's fingers brush against yours whilst exchanging the napkin.

He watches as you smile politely at her, probably telling her that it's okay, before turning around to the bartender to make an order. The woman next to you continues to talk to you through out the exchange, which again doesn't raise any red flags to Corio.

After all, women are very friendly by nature. It's normal that someone, especially a stranger who feels bad for spilling a drink on you, wants to continue to talk to you.

You don't think much of it either on your end, other than thinking that she - Clara, she tells you her name after a soft giggle - is very nice.

It's only when the drinks arrive and the woman stops you, lightly sitting you back down and brushing away the hair from your eyes, that Coriolanus starts feeling rather odd. The sudden wide eyes on your face and the red haired woman's smirk, before she slides you a piece of paper from her back pocket and lets you go, raises a lot of questions in his mind.

His top options? Something along the lines of bribery or illegal drugs. Or maybe she's using you to get something from him. Or maybe she wants something from your family.

What he doesn't expect, is for you to come back totally speechless, fingers deftly hanging onto the small piece of paper. You look somewhere between embarrassed and shocked, refusing to meet your boyfriend's eyes as you sit down next to him. He frowns at that, patting his lap instead.

Normally, you'd sit on his legs without a second thought. This time though, you hesitate.

"What'd she want? Drugs? Mone-" he growls, only to be cut off by the stranger.

"So you weren't lying. You do have a boyfriend." the red haired woman cuts into the conversation, now sitting on the velvet chair across from you. Coriolanus swears his jaw almost drops when the woman laughs seductively, winking at you whilst uncrossing her legs.

"You can sit on my lap instead, honey."

"I, you- I just-" Coriolanus starts speaking in an attempt to swear or scare her off, but his mind totally blanks.

You've never seen your boyfriend this flustered. His pale complexion breaks into a dark shade of red, his usually stern gaze darting back and forth between you and the woman, his speech stuttered and jumbled. It's YOU who ends up having the composure to let her down gently, holding out the paper with her phone number out towards her and informing her that you love your boyfriend very much and you're not that interested.

She pouts at that, and it makes your boyfriend's jaw clench so hard his face aches.

"Aw... alright, darling. But keep the paper. You know, just in case you wanna play."

With a wink and a hair flip, she disappears into the dark crowd of sweaty bodies and loud music. It's only then that your boyfriend snaps into action, taking the paper into his hands and shredding it to pieces.

"She called you darling." he snarls, angry. "Only I get to call you darling."

You just giggle, kissing away his sour expression, before tugging at his sleeves.

"Come on, forget about it. Let's just dance." you say, the alcohol in your veins still making you feel buzzed. He complies, never being able to say no to you, but the entire night, he can't help but hold you very close and glare at everyone who approaches you or even looks at you.

Regardless of their gender.

Now, he has to protect you from everyone, he thinks.

BONUS SCENARIO (later in the night)

You've had one too many drinks and yell into Coriolanus' ear that you really need to go to the bathroom. You clutch your handbag and stumble into the corridor, leaving your boyfriend alone by the bar. A stunning blonde woman slides into the empty seat next to him, glossy lips parting to ask a question.

Thinking she's going to hit on him, he raises his right hand, stopping her on the spot.

"I'm not interested, sorry."

The woman scoffs at that, ordering a tequila shot and almost glaring at him.

"Neither am I, genius. I was just wondering if you knew the name of the cutie who just went to the bathroom."

The moment you come back, he practically drags you out of the bar and hails a cab back to the apartment.

He's had enough of women trying to steal you from him. At least for that night.

a/n: hope you guys like this small type of blurbs too in between major fics hehe

[sonarspace]

࣪ ˖⟡ BREAKING POINT (FT. TOJI)

꒰ synopsis. toji’s job was simple: watch, report, and move on but when the lines between his mission and his desires blur, he’s forced to confront a breaking point he never saw coming. content. potentially dark themes. (stalking. mention of death.) nsfw. (cunnilingus) wc. 8k–ish. (oops) an. it’s very late so i’m sorry if certain things don’t make sense. there will be a part two, hopefully soon.

toji never liked simple jobs. the thrill was always in the hunt, in the unpredictability of his targets. but this time? this time felt... different. he’d tracked down his mark to a small, unassuming neighborhood, half-convinced he’d been sent on some kind of wild goose chase. this place wasn’t exactly a breeding ground for threats.

and that’s where you come in.

you’re not what he expected—at all. no training, no hint of power, no connection to the dangerous world he roams. just... you, living your life, completely unaware that a man like him is lurking in the shadows, keeping an eye on you. it’s almost a joke. the ease of it should make him itch to move on, to wrap things up fast. but instead, he finds himself sticking around, watching from a distance as you go about your day.

and damn, you’re making it hard to leave.

there’s something about the way you carry yourself—unconcerned, relaxed, like you know nothing about the danger he could bring into your world. it almost makes him feel... invisible, and that’s a feeling toji hasn’t had in years. the way you look at the world, unguarded, it’s like you don’t know people like him exist. you’re a mystery that’s more enticing than he wants to admit.

then, one night, you catch him.

it’s a fluke, really—a careless mistake on his part. he’s standing in the shadows outside your apartment, watching as you lock up, but tonight you linger, glancing around as if sensing something’s off. and then your gaze lands on him.

“you gonna stand there all night or what?” you ask, your tone half-amused, half-annoyed. it’s bold, like you’re talking to some stray cat on the sidewalk instead of a trained killer.

toji feels a flicker of irritation, mixed with something else he can’t place. usually, people run when they see him, or at the very least, they freeze. but you? you look at him like he’s just another random inconvenience, and that almost pisses him off. almost.

he steps out of the shadows, crossing the distance between you in a few strides, his figure looming over you. “didn’t know you were waiting for an invitation,” he murmurs, voice low, watching as your expression shifts, just a little hint of caution now, mixed with curiosity.

“what, do you follow everyone home?” you challenge, crossing your arms as if you’re unbothered by the proximity. “or am i just that special?”

toji smirks, something dark flashing in his eyes. “depends. maybe i just like the view.”

it’s a cheap line, but it gets the reaction he’s looking for—your eyes narrow, a spark of annoyance flickering across your face. you’re not scared, though, not really. if anything, you look like you’re ready to push back, and that... that’s something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

“you’ve got a weird way of complimenting people,” you shoot back, the faintest smirk playing at your lips.

“toji,” he says suddenly, the name rolling off his tongue like it’s an afterthought. “figured it’s only polite to introduce myself.”

your brows lift slightly, but you recover quickly. “well, toji, you’re still creeping around outside my building.”

“and you’re still talking to me,” he counters smoothly, tilting his head just enough to give you the impression he’s sizing you up. “guess that makes us even.”

you narrow your eyes at him, irritation sparking, but it’s laced with a strange flicker of curiosity you can’t quite push down. “you’re weird,” you mutter, your voice losing some of its edge. “you know that, right?”

toji chuckles low, the sound rough but not entirely unkind. “i’ve been called worse,” he says, stepping back, his gaze still locked on you. “don’t stay out too late. wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”

you blink at him, caught off guard by the unexpected hint of... concern? but before you can respond, he’s already turning on his heel, his hands shoved into his pockets as he strides off into the dark.

────

over the next week, his presence becomes almost predictable. every evening, when you glance outside, he’s there, leaning against the streetlamp or pacing the sidewalk. it’s unsettling at first, but eventually, you find yourself getting used to it. you even start thinking about how to break the tension. maybe if you offered him something, this strange game would become a little less unnerving.

so you bake cookies—just a simple gesture, something to bridge the gap. but when you head downstairs, holding the small jar of freshly baked cookies in your hands, his usual spot is empty.

you glance around, half-expecting him to emerge from the shadows, but there’s nothing. just the dim streetlight and the quiet hum of the city. for some reason, the absence stings more than you expect. had he moved on? stopped stalking you? the thought should bring relief, but instead, it leaves a pang of disappointment.

────

a week later, you’re walking home from work, the late evening air cool against your skin. it’s a quiet night, uneventful—until you feel the faint prickle of unease. someone is following you. the footsteps behind you are too deliberate, too measured, sending a shiver up your spine.

you quicken your pace, your keys clutched tightly in your hand, your mind racing as you glance over your shoulder. the man trailing you is nondescript, but his intent is clear in the way his gaze locks onto you, unyielding.

just as he closes the distance, a shadow moves faster than you can process. the air shifts, heavy and violent, and before you can even register what’s happening, the man’s feet leave the ground. a dull thud echoes through the night as he crumples to the pavement, his body limp, unmoving.

you freeze, your breath catching in your throat, your eyes wide as the shadow that felled him takes shape. “toji...” you gasp, the name tumbling from your lips as your gaze darts from him to the man sprawled on the ground. “did you—did you kill him?!”

toji steps forward, brushing his knuckles against his shirt, his expression calm, unbothered. “no,” he mutters, glancing down at the unconscious man.

you stare at the scene, your chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. then your eyes lock onto him, and for the first time, you notice the state he’s in—bruises darkening his cheekbone, a shallow cut near his temple. there’s a stiffness in the way he moves, like every step costs him something.

“toji...” you breathe, softer this time, the concern in your voice impossible to hide. your hand twitches at your side, almost reaching for him, but you stop yourself just before you do. “are you okay?”

he tilts his head, his smirk faint, almost weary. “you’re worried about me princess?” he asks, his tone laced with faint amusement.

but your questions spill out before you can stop them, each one tripping over the next. “what happened to you? where were you all this time? who is that guy? why was he—”

toji’s hands come up, his fingers gripping your arms gently but firmly, grounding you. “breathe,” he says, his voice low but steady, his gaze holding yours. “just... breathe.”

you blink up at him, startled into silence, your chest still heaving as you try to process everything at once. his touch is warm, solid, a tether pulling you back from the edge of your spiraling thoughts.

“i’ll tell you everything,” he murmurs, his grip loosening slightly, though his hands stay on you. “but first, you need to calm down.”

you swallow hard, nodding, your breaths coming slower now, though the weight of the moment still presses heavy against your chest. toji’s gaze lingers on you for a moment longer before he steps back, his expression softening ever so slightly.

toji’s hands fall from your arms, but his gaze doesn’t waver. there’s something steady, almost unshakable, in the way he looks at you, like he’s already made up his mind about what comes next.

“i need you to trust me,” he says, his voice low but firm, the weight of his words settling between you.

you blink, your breath catching for a moment. “trust you?” you repeat, incredulous, your eyes darting between him and the man still unconscious on the ground. “toji, i don’t even know you.”

he huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head slightly. “you don’t have to,” he mutters, his tone lighter but edged with something darker, something urgent. “just please, trust that i know what i’m doing.”

“why?” you ask softly, your voice trembling.

toji’s gaze lingers on the man sprawled on the ground, his expression grim, tension radiating from his frame. when he looks back at you, there’s no trace of humor left in his eyes.

“because this man was here to kill you,” he says flatly, his voice low and heavy, the weight of the words sinking into your chest like stones.

your breath catches, your mind scrambling to keep up. “kill me?” you repeat, your voice rising slightly. “how do you even know that? who are you?”

he exhales, dragging a hand down his face, his knuckles brushing against the fresh bruise on his jaw. “just—please,” he mutters, his voice thick with frustration, “let me take you somewhere safe. i’ll explain everything, but not here.”

you shake your head, your arms crossing tightly over your chest, as if that alone can keep him from pulling you into his orbit. “my apartment is safe,” you insist, your voice steadier than you feel. “we can go there. but i’m not going anywhere else.”

toji groans softly, muttering something under his breath, his jaw tightening. “no, you’re not safe here,” he argues, his tone sharper now. “people are coming. more of them.”

your stomach flips at his words, dread curling in your gut. “who’s coming?” you demand, your voice trembling despite your best efforts.

he doesn’t answer right away, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. finally, he shakes his head, his voice softer now but no less urgent. “please,” he says, his eyes locking onto yours, his voice dipping into something almost pleading. “just—”

“no,” you cut him off, your tone final. “if you want to talk, we’re doing it in my apartment. i’m not going anywhere.”

toji lets out a sharp exhale, his shoulders slumping slightly as he stares at you, clearly debating his next move. after a moment, he relents, jerking his head toward your building. “fine,” he mutters.

inside, your apartment is warm and inviting, a cozy little sanctuary from the chaos outside. the faint scent of vanilla lingers in the air, mingling with the soft glow of a small lamp on your end table. the space is lived-in, filled with personal touches—books scattered across the coffee table and a throw blanket draped over the back of the couch.

toji steps in, his sharp gaze sweeping over the room, taking in every detail. his expression softens briefly, the faintest flicker of something almost fond crossing his face. “cute place,” he mutters, the words gruff but genuine.

before you can respond, a tiny, black-and-white blur darts across the room, a soft, rumbling purr filling the air as a fluffy cat weaves around toji’s legs. its bright green eyes gleam mischievously as it nudges against his boots, its tail flicking with casual arrogance.

toji tenses, jerking his foot back like he’s just stepped on something dangerous. “what the—?”

you can’t help the laugh that escapes you as you kneel to scoop the cat into your arms, its purring growing louder as it nuzzles into your neck. “oh, ninja, meet toji. toji, this is ninja,” you say, grinning up at him as you scratch behind the cat’s ears.

“ninja,” he repeats flatly, glaring at the tiny creature like it’s somehow offended him. “you named it ninja.”

“he’s stealthy,” you reply with a shrug, holding the cat up to face him. ninja blinks lazily at toji, his green eyes half-lidded as if bored by the entire exchange.

toji sighs, muttering something under his breath about “useless little nuisances,” but he doesn’t move, watching as you set ninja down. the cat trots off, tail high, completely unbothered by the towering man now occupying his space.

toji exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “we don’t have much time,” he says, his tone sharpening as his gaze snaps back to you. “we need to go.”

but you plant your feet, crossing your arms over your chest, your expression firm. “not until you tell me what’s going on,” you say. “from the beginning.”

he groans, his head tipping back briefly before he looks at you again, his jaw tight. “this isn’t the time for a story,” he mutters. “you want answers, fine. but we need to move.”

“i’m not going anywhere until you explain,” you reply, your voice steady. “start talking, toji.”

toji groans, pinching the bridge of his nose before leveling you with a steady, unreadable gaze. “fine. you want to know what’s going on? here it is,” he says, his voice low and measured, like he’s choosing every word carefully. “i was assigned to gather intel on you. you’ve been classified as a threat.”

“a threat?” you repeat, your brows furrowing in disbelief. “me? why?”

“because of your father,” he replies, his tone clipped. “he was involved in some... shady business.”

you take a step back, your pulse quickening. “my parents are dead,” you say, your voice trembling, the words scraping against your throat. “they died in a car accident years ago.”

“i know that,” toji says, his voice softening just enough to make the tension in the room feel heavier. “but how do you think they died?”

the question hits like a hammer to your chest, the room tilting slightly as his words sink in. “you’re saying...” you trail off, your voice barely above a whisper. your thoughts race, piecing together fragments of a past you’d never questioned. “their car crash wasn’t an accident?” your stomach churns as the realization dawns on you, sharp and cruel.

toji doesn’t answer immediately, but the look in his eyes is enough to confirm it. you feel frozen, your legs unsteady beneath you, your breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps.

“breathe,” toji says softly, stepping closer. “look, i know it’s a lot. but we don’t have time to unpack all of this right now.” his voice is firm but not unkind, his gaze steady as he watches you struggle to process everything. “i need to get you out of here before they come.”

he turns toward the window, pulling the curtain back just enough to peer outside. his shoulders tense, his jaw tightening as he spots something in the distance. “shit,” he mutters under his breath. “they’re already here.”

“who’s here?” you ask, your voice barely steady.

“people who won’t hesitate to finish what they started with your parents,” he replies grimly. “we need to leave. now.”

you hesitate, your hands trembling as you clutch the back of a chair for support. “i can’t leave ninja,” you say, your voice breaking slightly.

toji glances at you, his expression hard, but then he sighs. “fine. bring the damn cat,” he mutters. “but grab your essentials. only what you need.”

you nod, swallowing hard as you rush to your bedroom. ninja’s carrier sits by the door, and you quickly scoop him up, his soft purring a faint comfort against the chaos unraveling around you. you throw a few shirts and pants into a small bag, along with your phone charger, some cat snacks, and ninja’s favorite toy. your hands tremble as you zip it shut, your mind spinning with questions you don’t have time to ask.

toji meets you at the door, grabbing the bag from your hands with ease. “stay close to me,” he says firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. you clutch ninja’s carrier tightly, nodding as he leads you toward the stairs instead of the elevator.

he pulls out his phone as you descend, speaking in a low voice. “gojo,” he mutters, his tone urgent. “send backup. now.”

you can’t hear the response on the other end, but the name lingers in your mind. gojo. another question for later.

toji suddenly halts, his body tense as he peers through the narrow window on the stairwell door. you follow his gaze, your heart stopping as you see men entering your floor, their movements calculated, their intentions clear.

he turns to you, his hand firm on your shoulder. “stay quiet. stay behind me,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

you watch as the men fan out on your floor, their presence clearing the stairwell for now. toji gestures sharply, and you follow him as he moves quickly, leading you downward again. your heart pounds in your chest, every creak of the stairs feeling impossibly loud.

you reach the basement parking lot, the space eerily quiet except for a single man stationed near the exit. toji moves like a shadow, closing the distance before the man can react. one quick strike, and the guard crumples to the ground, unconscious.

“come on,” toji urges, his voice low as he glances back at you. you hurry after him, clutching ninja’s carrier as your legs shake beneath you.

a sleek car pulls up, its headlights cutting through the dimness of the garage. the driver’s side window rolls down, revealing a man with dark hair tied into two buns and faint dark circles under his eyes. he peers at you briefly before addressing toji. “you’re late.”

“shut up, choso,” toji mutters, opening the back door and motioning for you to get in. you slide into the back seat, holding ninja close as the carrier shifts in your lap. toji closes the door behind you before sliding into the passenger seat. “drive.”

choso doesn’t hesitate, pulling out of the parking lot with practiced ease, the car gliding into the quiet streets. the tension in the air is thick, but no one speaks. the black cars you feared never materialize behind you, the route clear as choso expertly navigates the city streets, heading toward the outskirts.

you sit silently in the back seat, your arms wrapped protectively around ninja’s carrier, your eyes fixed on the shifting shadows outside. your mind races, replaying toji’s words over and over. their car crash wasn’t an accident. the weight of it settles heavily in your chest, your breath shallow as you try to process what it all means.

toji glances at you through the rearview mirror, his expression unreadable. he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t press. he knows this is a lot to take in—too much, even—but he also knows there’s no way to soften the truth.

the car slows as they pull into a small gas station, the bright fluorescent lights casting harsh shadows across the cracked pavement. choso cuts the engine, nodding toward a second car parked discreetly in the lot. “switching vehicles,” he says simply, already getting out.

toji turns in his seat, his gaze landing on you. “you need anything?” he asks, his voice low but steady.

you shake your head, your grip tightening slightly on ninja’s carrier. “no,” you murmur, your voice quiet, barely audible.

he watches you for a moment longer before stepping out of the car. you don’t move, your thoughts still tangled and heavy, the soft rumble of ninja’s purring the only thing grounding you.

when toji returns, he opens the back door and hands you a cold bottle of water and a small pack of citrus-flavored candy. your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you take the items, your gaze darting up to meet his. “how did you—” you start, but then it hits you. he’s been watching me. the thought stings, a strange mix of discomfort and something else you can’t quite name.

toji leans against the doorframe, his smirk faint but noticeable. “figured you’d need something,” he says simply, not offering more than that.

you exhale softly, your fingers brushing over the pack before tucking it away. “thanks,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

“don’t mention it,” he replies, stepping back to let you out of the car.

the three of you transfer into the second vehicle, ninja settling in your lap once more as you strap in. the silence follows you as the new car pulls onto the highway, the city lights fading behind you, replaced by the sprawling emptiness of the outskirts. it feels surreal, like the ground beneath your life has shifted, leaving you grasping for something solid.

────

the car pulls off the main road onto a narrow dirt path, winding through dense trees until a modest house comes into view. the structure is secluded, its exterior unassuming, the kind of place that could disappear into the background without much effort.

as the car rolls to a stop, the front door swings open, and a man with white hair steps out. he’s tall, his posture relaxed, and there’s a boyish grin on his face as he approaches, completely unfazed by the tension hanging in the air.

“welcome, welcome,” he says brightly, pulling open the back door before you can even unbuckle. his eyes immediately land on ninja’s carrier, and his grin widens. “and who’s this little guy?”

you blink, caught off guard as he leans down, cooing softly at the cat. “hey there, buddy,” he murmurs, lifting the carrier carefully from your lap. ninja lets out a soft meow, pressing his nose against the mesh, and the man chuckles. “oh, i like him already.”

“give it a rest, gojo,” toji mutters as he rounds the car, his tone laced with faint irritation. “you’re here to help, not adopt a cat.”

“who says i can’t do both?” gojo replies, turning to you with an easy smile. “satoru gojo,” he says, holding the carrier with one hand as he offers the other to you. “pleasure to meet you.”

you hesitate for a moment before shaking his hand, your grip tentative. “uh... thanks,” you manage, your voice soft.

toji falls into step beside you, his presence a steadying weight as gojo leads you toward the house. the air feels heavier as you step inside, your eyes immediately drawn to the two figures waiting in the living room.

the first is a tall woman with blonde hair tied into a loose ponytail, her arms crossed as she leans casually against the back of a worn-out couch. her gaze shifts to choso as he enters behind you, and a slow, easy smile spreads across her face.

“took you long enough,” she says, her tone teasing.

“had to pick up stragglers,” choso replies, his voice softer now as he steps forward and kisses her, his hand resting lightly on her waist. she leans into him with an ease that makes you feel like you’re intruding on something private.

you shift on your feet awkwardly, but before you can decide where to look, the woman turns her attention to you, her smile softening. “you must be exhausted,” she says gently, her tone warm and disarming. she steps forward, her hand resting lightly on your arm. “yuki tsukumo,” she introduces herself. “don’t let the boys intimidate you. they mean well. mostly.”

her kindness catches you off guard, and you manage a small, hesitant smile. “thank you,” you murmur.

toji’s voice cuts through the moment, his tone gruff. “don’t let her fool you,” he says, motioning toward yuki with a slight tilt of his head. “she’s dangerous.”

“only to people who deserve it,” yuki replies, her grin returning, her tone light but edged with a quiet confidence that makes you believe her.

beside her stands another figure, a man with long black hair pulled back into a neat bun. his features are sharp but composed, his expression calm as he steps forward, offering you a polite smile.

“suguru geto,” toji says, motioning toward him. “don’t let the nice guy act fool you.”

“ignore him,” suguru says, his tone carrying the faintest trace of humor. “he likes to pretend he’s the only one you can trust.” his eyes soften as they meet yours. “it’s nice to meet you. i know this must all feel... overwhelming.”

you nod wordlessly, still clutching ninja’s toy in your hand, your mind struggling to process everything. suguru’s voice is calm, measured, and there’s something about the way he speaks that makes you feel just a little more grounded.

meanwhile, gojo sets ninja’s carrier down, popping the door open to let the cat stretch out onto the floor. ninja lets out a soft meow before trotting over to inspect the room, his tail high and proud.

“so,” gojo says, straightening up and clapping his hands together. “what’s the plan? because i’m assuming you didn’t bring her here just for the company.”

toji sighs, running a hand through his hair as he looks at you. “the plan,” he says slowly, “is to keep her alive.”

────

“come on,” yuki says, her tone gentle as she motions for you to follow her. “i’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”

yuki leads you down a narrow hallway, the wooden floorboards creaking faintly underfoot. the house is surprisingly clean and cozy inside—nothing like its rugged exterior. the walls are painted a warm beige, and small touches, like neatly arranged bookshelves give the space an unexpected charm.

yuki stops in front of a door, pushing it open to reveal a small, simple room. “here you go,” she says, stepping aside to let you in.

the room is bland but functional. a bed sits in the center, flanked by two plain side tables. there’s a narrow windowsill with a view of the surrounding trees, and the soft yellow glow of a table lamp casts a warm light over the otherwise bare space. it’s not much, but something about it feels oddly grounding—like a blank slate.

you set ninja’s carrier down and open the door. he stretches his little body out, his back arching and his paws spreading wide, before he begins mapping the space with his usual confidence, tail flicking as he investigates every corner.

“he’s cute,” yuki says with a soft smile, leaning against the doorframe. “you okay?”

the question hangs heavy in the air. she knows the answer before you say anything—it’s written all over your face. still, you appreciate the softness in her tone, the way she gives you space to process everything.

“it gets better,” she says quietly, her smile small but reassuring. “i promise. we’ll keep you safe.”

her words settle over you like a blanket—not enough to erase the weight in your chest, but enough to remind you that you’re not alone. she straightens, stepping back into the hallway. “take your time settling in,” she adds. “oh, and just a heads-up—there are only two bathrooms, and neither of them lock. so if you’re using one, just stick a towel under the door. it’s an unspoken rule for when we stay here.”

“got it,” you reply, managing a faint smile.

she nods once before disappearing down the hall, leaving you alone with ninja, who’s now perched on the bed, lazily cleaning his paw. you glance around the room again, sighing as you take it in. it’s bare, unremarkable—but maybe, just maybe, you could see yourself living here.

you grab a pair of sweatpants and a loose shirt from your bag and step out of the room. the hallway is quiet as you make your way to the bathroom, pushing the door open. it’s clean, the tiles worn but scrubbed spotless, and the mirror above the sink reflects the exhaustion etched into your face.

remembering yuki’s advice, you grab a towel from the rack and slide it under the door, pressing it into place with your foot.

the warm water feels like a balm against your skin, washing away the grime and tension of the day. for a brief moment, you let yourself relax, closing your eyes and letting the steam envelop you. but then the weight of everything crashes back down—the truth about your parents, the sudden upheaval of your life, the danger still lurking somewhere outside the walls of this house.

after a while, you turn off the water, wiping your face with trembling hands before stepping out. you change quickly, pulling on the sweatpants and shirt, the soft fabric a small comfort against your damp skin. you gather your things, pulling the towel from beneath the door as you prepare to head back to your room.

“shit!” you yelp, your heart leaping into your throat as you clutch your chest. “what the hell—”

“sorry,” he murmurs, holding up a hand. “didn’t mean to scare you.”

you stare at him, your pulse still racing as you take in his expression. his voice is quieter than usual, the sharpness dulled, and there’s something in his gaze—concern, maybe, or something close to it.

toji watches you for a moment, his eyes scanning your face as if searching for something. “you okay?” he asks, his voice low but steady.

you hesitate, your hands tightening around the clothes you’re holding. “yeah,” you murmur, though the word feels hollow. “i’m fine.”

his brow furrows slightly, but he doesn’t press. instead, he gestures down the hallway. “come on. let’s talk,” he says, stepping aside and waiting for you to follow.

you trail after him, the quiet creak of the floorboards the only sound between you as he walks you back to your room. ninja is curled up on the bed when you enter, his tail twitching lazily as he stretches out, completely undisturbed by the tension hanging in the air. toji closes the door behind him, leaning against it as you sit on the edge of the bed, clutching the fabric of your sweatpants for something to ground you.

“i owe you an explanation,” toji begins, crossing his arms over his chest. his voice is even, but there’s a weight to it, like he’s been carrying this for a while. “about what’s going on. and about me.”

you nod silently, your gaze locked on him as you wait for him to continue.

“my crew, we’re... mercenaries, more or less. we take jobs—tracking people, running interference, whatever the client needs. and our clients? not the kind of people you’d ever want to meet.”

you stay quiet, your heart beating faster as you wait for him to continue.

“there are two big players we work for—naoya zen’in and ryomen sukuna,” he explains, his tone matter-of-fact. “naoya’s got power, connections, influence. he thinks that makes him untouchable. sukuna? he’s just pure strength. nobody crosses him and lives to tell about it.”

you can’t help the question that slips out. “so... who do you work for?”

“both,” toji replies with a slight shrug, as if it’s no big deal. “it’s a balancing act. naoya’s got more reach, but sukuna’s stronger. we take jobs from both of them, depending on what’s on the table.”

“and me?” you ask, your voice trembling slightly. “how do i fit into this?”

toji’s jaw tightens, and he looks away for a moment, as if weighing his words. “naoya gave me your file,” he says finally. “he wanted you followed. didn’t say why—just that he’d pay well.”

your chest tightens, the reality of his admission hitting you like a blow. “that's why you were... stalking me,” you say, trying to keep up.

“yeah,” toji replies bluntly, his tone unwavering. “but here’s the thing—i told sukuna about the job. figured he’d want to know what naoya was up to.”

“and what did he say?” you ask, your pulse quickening, the pieces of this twisted puzzle refusing to fall into place.

“he told me to keep it up,” toji says, his voice quieter now. “but not for naoya’s sake. for yours.”

you blink, confusion clouding your thoughts. “for me? why would he care about me?”

toji exhales, dragging a hand through his hair, his frustration evident in the way his shoulders tense. “that’s the part i don’t know,” he admits, his gaze flicking back to you. “but sukuna doesn’t do things without a reason. if he wanted me to keep you safe, there’s a reason for it. so that’s what i did.”

your hands grip the edge of the bed, your thoughts racing. “and naoya?” you ask, barely above a whisper. “what does he want with me?”

“we’re not sure about that yet,” toji admits, his voice quieter now, almost reluctant. “we’re trying to figure it out. but whatever it is...” he pauses, stepping closer. “you’re safe,” he whispers, the words carrying a weight you didn’t realize you needed to hear.

his eyes soften as he crouches in front of you, his movements careful. when he notices the tears slipping down your cheeks, he reaches out, his thumb brushing gently against your skin to wipe a stray tear. “i won’t let anything happen to you,” he vows softly.

ninja pads over, his little paws silent against the bed as he hops up, settling into your lap. his warm weight presses against you, his soft purring vibrating through your legs, as if he can sense your spiraling emotions and wants to anchor you in his own quiet way. you stroke his fur absently, your fingers trembling slightly as you try to process everything.

toji watches you for a moment, his expression unreadable. then he tips your chin up with a finger, his touch firm but gentle, forcing you to meet his gaze. “i mean it,” he says, his voice low, insistent. “i won’t let anything happen to you.”

his words settle over you, and for the first time in what feels like hours, your breathing evens out. the faintest flicker of something close to relief creeps in, though the fear and uncertainty linger.

before you can respond, toji leans in, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. the gesture is brief, almost hesitant, but it sends a warmth through your chest that you can’t explain.

“get some rest,” he murmurs, pulling back slightly. “we’ll talk more tomorrow.”

you nod silently, your grip on ninja tightening as the door clicks softly behind him. the weight of the day still presses on you, lingering like an invisible force bearing down on your chest. you slump back on the bed with a heavy sigh, your head sinking into the pillow as the tension slowly drains from your body.

ninja curls up beside you, his small body warm and steady against your side, his soft purring filling the quiet room. you stroke his fur absentmindedly, your thoughts a tangled mess of confusion, fear, and exhaustion.

the room feels both too small and too vast, the events of the day replaying in your mind like a loop you can’t shut off. the truth about your parents, the danger lurking just outside this house, and toji’s quiet promise—it all feels too big, too overwhelming to process.

but then you think of his words, the way his voice softened, the steady conviction in his gaze as he said,��i won’t let anything happen to you. and for a moment—just a moment—you allow yourself to believe him.

ninja shifts slightly, nudging his head against your hand, and you sigh, closing your eyes. 

────

it’s been two weeks since your world turned upside down. two weeks of secrets, half-truths, and trying to convince yourself you’re safe in a house full of strangers who know more about your life than you do.

you’d emailed your boss a vague explanation—an “unforeseen emergency” that would keep you away for an indefinite period. they’d been understanding enough, though your phone buzzed with missed calls from coworkers curious about what happened. but it wasn’t until your best friend’s name lit up your screen that you faltered.

you’re curled up in the corner of the couch, staring at your phone as it buzzes with your best friend’s name flashing across the screen. you hesitate, your thumb hovering over the answer button. toji is seated nearby, leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed as he watches you with that unreadable expression.

“you need to keep where you are to yourself,” he says, his voice calm but firm. “don’t tell anyone anything.”

you exhale softly, nodding as you press the green button and lift the phone to your ear. “hey.”

“oh my god, finally!” your friend’s voice bursts through the line, light and frantic all at once. “do you know how worried i’ve been? you just dropped off the face of the earth!”

you glance at toji, his gaze unwavering, a silent reminder. “i’m fine,” you say, forcing your voice to stay steady. “i’ve just been... out of town. for work.”

“work? since when do you travel for work? where are you?” she asks, her tone sharp with concern.

“it’s nothing exciting,” you reply quickly, your words tumbling over each other as you try to sound nonchalant. “just some last-minute project they needed me on. i’ll be busy for a while—probably won’t have much time to talk.”

there’s a pause, the silence on the other end stretching long enough to make your stomach twist. “are you sure you’re okay?” she finally asks, her voice softer now. “you sound... off.”

you glance at toji again, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tilts his head. “i’m okay,” you lie, your fingers curling into the hem of your shirt. “just stressed, you know? new place, new schedule. it’s a lot to adjust to.”

she sighs, the sound laced with doubt. “okay, fine. but promise me you’ll call if you need anything. i don’t care how busy you are.”

“i promise,” you say, the guilt clawing at your chest. “i’ll call when i can.”

when the call ends, you set your phone down on the table, staring at it as if it might ring again. toji doesn’t say anything at first, his expression unreadable as he pushes off the counter and approaches you.

“that wasn’t easy, was it?” he murmurs, his tone softer now, almost like he’s trying to offer reassurance.

you shake your head, swallowing the lump in your throat. “no,” you admit quietly. “it wasn’t.”

toji sighs, running a hand through his hair before sitting down across from you. “i know it feels wrong. but you did the right thing,” he says, his voice steady, firm. “keeping her out of this? it’s for her safety too.”

you nod, though the words do little to ease the ache in your chest. you pick up your phone again, staring at the lock screen like it holds the answers to questions you can’t even form.

“you’re not alone, you know,” toji adds, his voice breaking the silence. “even if it feels that way.”

you glance at him, his gaze meeting yours for just a moment before he stands, walking back to the kitchen. his words linger long after he’s gone, a small comfort against the growing weight of isolation.

────

you stood in front of the mirror in your room, adjusting the borrowed crop top yuki had tossed your way earlier in the week. it fit snugly, the hem brushing just above your waistline. the sweatpants hung loosely on your hips, comfortable but far from modest. you felt... exposed.

maybe it was the heat building in your chest—the restless energy that had been simmering all day—or maybe it was the way you’d caught yourself stealing glances at toji earlier during dinner, your thoughts wandering to the sharp cut of his jaw, the way his muscles flexed when he moved.

you shook the thoughts away, grabbing a water bottle and heading downstairs to the makeshift gym in the basement.

toji was already there, his back to you as he adjusted the straps on a punching bag. his black tank clung to his broad shoulders, the curve of his biceps catching your attention before you tore your gaze away.

he turned, his expression neutral before a faint smirk curved his lips. “you’re early,” he said, his voice low.

“let’s just get this over with,” you muttered, stepping onto the mat and stretching your arms, pretending not to notice the way his eyes lingered.

the session started like any other—jabs, kicks, counter-movements—but tonight, there was an edge to your strikes, a force that wasn’t usually there. toji caught on quickly, his movements fluid as he blocked each attempt, his brow furrowing slightly.

“you’re tense,” he said, stepping back and holding up a hand to pause.

“i’m fine,” you huffed, brushing a strand of hair from your face and resetting your stance.

“no, you’re not,” he countered, his voice steady but probing. “what’s going on?”

you didn’t answer, instead lunging forward with a punch he caught easily, his grip firm around your wrist. he twisted, flipping you onto your back with a controlled motion that left you breathless.

you gasped as your back hit the mat, your pulse quickening as he pinned you down. one hand pressed your wrist to the floor above your head, while the other braced against your hip, holding you in place.

“talk to me,” he said, his voice softer now, almost coaxing. “what’s wrong?”

you opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. all you could focus on was the heat radiating from his body, the way his hips pressed against yours, the weight of him holding you down.

“nothing,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

toji’s gaze searched yours, his green eyes darkening as they flicked down to your parted lips, then back up. “you sure about that?” he murmured, his grip on your wrist loosening slightly, but not enough to let you go.

your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest as the tension between you crackled like a live wire. you felt his thumb brush against your hip, the movement so slight you almost thought you imagined it.

“toji...” you breathed, your voice barely audible, your body instinctively arching just slightly beneath him.

he didn’t move, didn’t break eye contact, his jaw tightening as he seemed to wrestle with himself. “you’re not focused,” he said finally, though his tone lacked its usual bite. “what’s got you so distracted?”

“you,” the word slipped out before you could stop it, the confession hanging in the charged air between you.

toji stilled, his expression unreadable as the tension in the room reached its breaking point.

his grip on your wrist tightened, but his other hand moved, brushing against your waist, fingers pressing into the soft fabric of your sweatpants. his thumb tracing an absentminded circle that sent sparks shooting up your spine.

“me?” he murmured, his voice low, like he wasn’t entirely sure he’d heard you right.

you nodded, the motion barely perceptible, your lips parting as you tried to catch your breath.

he huffed out a low laugh, the corner of his mouth twitching as if supressing a mirk. “you’ve been all worked up over me, huh?”

you squirmed under his gaze, the heat rising to your cheeks making it impossible to deny. “just—don’t make this a big deal,” you muttered, turning your head away.

but toji wasn’t about to let you off that easy. his hand slid down, resting lightly on your hip, his touch warm and deliberate. “you sure about this?” he murmured, his voice quieter now, the teasing edge replaced with something softer, more serious. “i’m not doing anything unless you want it.”

your breath hitched, your body betraying you as your hips shifted under his touch. “i want it,” you whispered, your voice shaky but firm.

his smirk returned, slow and deliberate. “good.”

toji’s hand moved lower, brushing over the waistband of your sweatpants. “these,” he muttered, his tone dipping into something almost amused as his fingers hooked under the elastic, “are covering way too much of you.”

your breath hitched, the rasp in his voice sending a shiver through you. “they’re just sweatpants,” you murmured, trying to keep your voice steady, but the way his fingers toyed with the fabric had you faltering.

“just sweatpants,” toji muttered again, shaking his head as his fingers hooked under the waistband. “covering so much of you…” his smirk widened, dark and teasing. “nah, princess. these things have been pissing me off all night. hiding all this from me.”

he tugged them down slowly, deliberately, letting the fabric drag against your skin in a way that made your breath hitch. his dark eyes followed every inch he revealed, his gaze growing hungrier as the sweatpants pooled at your ankles. “knew it’d be worth the wait,” he muttered, his voice low, rough.

you squirmed under the intensity of his stare, the cool air raising goosebumps on your skin. toji’s hands returned to your hips, warm and firm, his thumbs brushing over the soft skin of your inner thighs.

“you’re so damn shy all of a sudden,” he teased, his voice dipping into that low rasp that made heat pool in your stomach. “you’ve been fighting me all night, and now you’ve got nothing to say?”

“toji,” you breathed, your voice barely steady, your hands gripping the mat beneath you as his hands trailed higher.

“what?” he murmured, his tone dripping with mock innocence. “just trying to help, princess. you said you needed this, didn’t you?”

before you could answer, he leaned in, his lips brushing against your jaw, his breath hot against your skin. “then let me make you feel good,” he whispered, his voice low, deliberate, his words sending a shiver down your spine.

his fingers slid lower, hooking beneath the edge of your panties. he paused, just for a moment, his gaze meeting yours, giving you the chance to stop him. when you didn’t, he smirked, tugging them down with the same maddening slowness, exposing you completely. his eyes darkened as he tossed the fabric aside, and the air between you seemed to grow heavier.

“fuck,” he muttered, his hands gliding over your thighs, parting them as he settled between them. “look at you.” his voice was low, rough, filled with something that made your pulse race.

he didn’t hesitate, his fingers brushing over your folds, gathering the slick there as he let out a low, appreciative groan. “so wet already,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. “you’ve been holding out on me, haven’t you?”

your cheeks burned, and you turned your head, trying to hide the heat rising to your face. but toji wasn’t having it. his free hand caught your chin, tilting your face back toward him, his grip firm but gentle.

“nah, princess,” he said, his voice quiet but commanding. “i want to see that pretty face when you come.”

his fingers moved again, teasing over your clit in slow, deliberate circles. the light, teasing touch sent sparks shooting through you, your hips shifting involuntarily beneath him. “toji,” you whimpered, your voice trembling as you tried to stay grounded.

“yeah?” he muttered, his lips curling into a smirk as he watched you squirm under his touch. “what do you need, princess? tell me.”

“don’t stop,” you breathed, your voice catching as his movements grew firmer, more insistent.

“wasn’t planning on it,” he murmured, lowering his head. his tongue flicked out, tracing a slow, deliberate circle over your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through you. your back arched off the mat, a soft cry spilling from your lips as he settled into a rhythm, his tongue and fingers working in perfect tandem.

he groaned softly against you, the sound vibrating through your core as he slid a finger inside, the stretch making your breath hitch. “fuck,” he muttered, his voice muffled against your skin. “so tight, princess. you’ve been needing this for a while, haven’t you?”

you couldn’t respond, your voice caught in your throat as he added another finger, curling them just right, hitting that spot that made your vision blur. his pace was unrelenting, his fingers moving in steady, deliberate thrusts while his tongue worked your clit with maddening precision.

“toji—” you gasped, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as your thighs trembled against his shoulders.

he hummed against you, his tongue pressing flat against your clit before flicking up again. “that’s it,” he murmured, his voice dark and rough. “let go for me. i want to feel it.”

his words sent you spiraling, your body arching as the tension in your core snapped, waves of pleasure crashing over you. you cried out, your voice breaking as your fingers tightened in his hair, holding him against you as you rode out the high.

toji didn’t let up, his tongue and fingers moving slowly now, coaxing every last aftershock from your trembling body. when he finally pulled back, his lips were swollen, his chin glistening as he looked up at you, his expression smug and satisfied.

“sweet as hell,” he muttered, his voice rough as he brought his fingers to his lips, licking them clean with deliberate slowness. his dark eyes stayed locked on yours, the heat in them making your cheeks burn.

toji finally eased back, his lips glistening and swollen, his smirk impossibly smug as he looked down at you. your chest was still rising and falling with the aftermath of your release, your limbs heavy, your thoughts a jumbled mess.

“feel better now?” he asked, his voice low, teasing.

you nodded weakly, your voice too shaky to respond. his smirk widened, and he pressed a lingering kiss to your temple before pulling back, his hand resting lightly on your thigh.

he reached to the side, grabbing a few tissues from the small box nearby. “hold still,” he murmured, his voice softer now as he gently wiped you clean, his touch uncharacteristically tender. the contrast to his earlier intensity made your cheeks flush all over again.

he reached for your sweatpants. his hands slid them back up your legs with care. his thumbs smoothed over your hips as he adjusted the waistband, his gaze flickering up to meet yours.

“there,” he said, his voice low and almost fond. “back to being all covered up.”

but then his hand slipped to the side, grabbing your discarded underwear from the mat. he balled the fabric up in his hand, slipping it into his pocket without hesitation.

“toji,” you said, sitting up slightly, your voice a mix of disbelief and exasperation. “my underwear?”

he grinned, leaning down to press a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth before standing. “i’ll give it back… maybe,” he said, his smirk widening as he glanced back over his shoulder.

“you’re insufferable,” you muttered, glaring at him, but the heat in your cheeks betrayed the way your heart raced at his audacity.

“you like it,” he called over his shoulder, already halfway out the door. “next training session, sweet girl. don’t be late.”

an. peep the nickname change after he got a taste of that thing.. mhm. what a good man.

DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!

[oh-no-its-bird]

hi listen i just had a divine intervention or smth lmk if you don't like it but

what if your team Ro time travel au + my time travel Tobirama

Team Ro would have memories of the canon and they got to this different timeline and there's Tobirama actively trying to seduce Uchiha fucking Madara. They didn't teach THAT in the Academy

They got in the time when Tobirama still orchestrated meetings, but Butsuma is already dead so if everything goes well, Tobirama would get Madara and peace soon.

And then there suddenly spawn a Hatake with a sharingan with 2 Uchiha kids and a Mokuton user. Political nightmare.

Later Tobirama recognises Kakashi and was like "The fuck? It's that Hatake from the war. What is he doing there, he should not have been born yet!!"

OHHH THATS SO GOOD THO???

I'm gonna be real I love the concept of "team ro time travel au but they time travel into someone else's time travel au," that's so good

If we go with your au, there's a really interesting immediate aspect of like: hey ! Tobirama might recognize Kakashi or maybe even Tenzo from the war, but these guys are way fucking younger than when they met !!!

Idk what exactly can be done with that but it's interesting to consider. Also Tobirama talked ab Itachi and his crimes before I'm p sure? So like he knows what happens to the Uchiha and that it was Itachi who did it for the village. I wanna see him faced w the kid who he once praised for slaughtering his own clan to prove his loyalty.

I wanna see him feel the consequences of the stress Itachi is under when he (and possibly Shisui) attempt to kill Madara.

Stop interfering with his fix it fic you brats!! He's already got it covered!! You're just causing a mess!!!!

They get zapped in, like, in the middle of Tobirama's happy ending epilogue too. Tobirama is peacefully eating dinner in his house w his new husband Madara thinking "well. Alls well that ends well." Then BOOM Kakashi Shisui Itachi and Tenzo crash out of fucking nowhere directly onto their table, getting covered in food and breaking the table in half

Immediatley arrested !! I feel like Tobirama would instantly understand what happened by recognizing their uniforms + potentially Kakashi + he's already a time traveler himself so it's really no stretch for him to go "oh fuck I didn't think we'd get a double jepordy in this bitch but I guess not"

But like it's not like he can just SAY that ? Or he could but it would bring a lot of questions he probably does not want to answer.

Now another problem arises in like. I don't think Tobirama is especially attached to any of these guys. I can see him maybe having a lingering "pay it forward ig" feeling just bc they're "loyal konoha soldiers" and it'd be a waste to let that resource just burn. But also like. Under no circumstances can Tobirama have these guys share certain aspects of future knowledge.

Tobirama worked so hard to get here !!!! Literal years of planning !!!! He got his happy ending and it very much rests on Madara staying safe and sane and NO ONE IMPLYING HE WILL BETRAY KONOHA EVER !!!!! Tobirama does not even wanna RISK that becoming a rumor, he will take no chances.

Anyways I think his best course of action would be to reveal himself as a time traveler specifically to team ro, then position himself as their hokage who they should remain loyal to, say that it is for Konoha's best interests that they do not reveal certain things, and play it by ear from there.

Tobirama deciding he can't risk team ro going forward in time again and potentially fucking up the time stream or smthn. They need to stay here. He can not risk losing this shit. Sorry guys it looks like your trapped here <3

Anyways team ro being scary loyal to him bc he is the closest approximation to their (current?) Hokage and only person w the knowledge to enforce that power over them (at this time)

In my original post, like, all of team ro are already established to be kind of at their worst and most loyal to the village at that point to. They are at THE age(s) to be manipulated like that tbh, rip

It's not too bad tho. I think Itachi would feel relieved but also very guilty. Shisui too. Tenzo is violently neutral bc hes still in his "learning to be a real boy" phase from root, but it's all positive for him tbh. Kakashi is tricky bc his mental state is the equivalent of someone rapidly bouncing a ball on a thin pane of glass trying to prove it's bullet proof (it's not) and has like MOUNTAINS of complexes around the words "konoha authority figure" and what he's leaving behind. He's probably the most determined to go back

Anyways uhh. Izuna gets Itachi to help him be skeptical of Tobirama and spy on him. Itachi only agrees bc he violently reminds him of Sasuke (this will develop into a complex if not stopped. Shisui is working on it.)

[thelifeofchuckmovie]

When it comes to ending the world, Stephen King is a repeat offender. He has brought life as we know it to a brutal conclusion several times over the decades, usually highlighting the cruelty and desperation that erupts among the last to go. But his 2020 story “The Life of Chuck” uses doomsday to evoke some unlikely sentiments: Wistfulness. Gratitude. Even joy.

The idea of creating an apocalyptic version of It’s a Wonderful Life is what led filmmaker Mike Flanagan to call dibs on the rights to the novella more than four years ago. The breakdown of society, extinction-level natural disasters, and the disintegration of reality itself is explored through the lens of one relatively meek and mild accountant, played by Tom Hiddleston, whose memories and choices are mysteriously connected to these tribulations. Retirement posters congratulating him on “39 great years” pop up everywhere. But who is this guy? What job does he do (or did he used to do)? And why does it matter so much to the fate of the world? This apparent nobody named Chuck Krantz has lived larger than anyone thought possible.

Having explored King country before in 2017’s Gerald’s Game and 2019’s The Shining sequel Doctor Sleep, Flanagan got involved after reading an early copy of “Chuck” before it was published in the collection If It Bleeds. The Haunting of Hill House and Fall of the House of Usher creator produced the film independently, believing it might be too offbeat for risk-averse studios to greenlight. He even secured a waiver from the striking Hollywood guilds last year to move forward with the shoot while the rest of the industry was stuck in the work stoppage. Now he and Hiddleston are ready to reveal the finished version of The Life of Chuck as it heads to the upcoming Toronto International Film Festival, where it will screen for potential distributors.

Among the skeptics about this adaptation was King himself, according to Flanagan. “His initial responses to me were a little like, ‘Oh, okay. Yeah. If you think that’s a movie…,’” he says. “He did say several times that he thought it would be a challenge to get it supported through traditional means.”

King has now seen the finished movie and no longer has doubts. He described it to Vanity Fair as “a happiness machine.”

“Well, he’s written something very tender and very wise,” Hiddleston says. “I think there is a great wisdom in the soul of the story, which is that it takes courage to hold on to what is good in a world that feels like it’s falling apart.”

Flanagan hopes others see it that way too, although the overpowering dread that begins the story may be more immediately relatable. “I’ve heard it said that every generation feels a little like the world is ending at some point, [but] I still feel like it’s different for us,” the 46-year-old filmmaker says with a mordant laugh. “Institutions we took for granted as propping up our society are failing left and right. Our politics have degraded spectacularly. The sense that it’s breaking down, that the world is moving on, has been increasingly palpable. When I talk to my parents or members of older generations who have been through their own turbulent times, the thing that strikes me is that they’re like, ‘Oh yeah, this is really bad.’”

But…it’s not entirely bad. And that’s the underlying message of The Life of Chuck as its various mysteries play out. “There’s no sense of terror in the way that King drew it,” Flanagan says. “Even as the world feels as though it’s ending, people become introspective, they reach into their past for loves that have left their lives for one reason or another. Strangers engage in open and fearless communication.”

It’s an indie-film variation on the big-budget cataclysm story. “A disaster movie has people meeting the end while running from tidal waves, and this story has people sitting quietly holding hands looking at the stars,” Flanagan says.

The key to it all is Chuck himself, although he doesn’t turn up onscreen until the second segment of the three-act story, which plays out in reverse chronological order.

The beginning is actually the end, as the whole world circles the drain. Caught in this spiral is Chiwetel Ejiofor (12 Years a Slave), a school teacher trying to apply logic to the planet’s troubles; Karen Gillan (Guardians of the Galaxy) is his ex, a hospital worker determined to save everyone she can; Matthew Lillard (Scream) is a construction worker neighbor who finds zen amid the chaos; and Carl Lumbly (Alias), plays a funeral director who has dedicated his life to easing people through death.

The end of the movie is actually the beginning, showing young Chuck (Benjamin Pajak) when he was a boy being raised by his grandparents (Mia Sara of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and Mark Hamill). The insight of these two—coupled with the otherworldly revelations he finds in an eerie room tucked into the peak of their Victorian home—help him learn to seek out bright spots when life is marred by sorrow and darkness.

In elementary school, young Chuck discovers some important things about himself thanks to guidance from a brusque dance instructor (Samantha Sloyan), and a kindhearted English teacher, played by Kate Siegel, who gives the boy (not to mention the audience) some important information that serves as a code breaker for the story's more cosmic puzzles.

As for the middle of the film: It’s a dance number. That’s when Hiddleston steps in.

Compounding the peculiarity of The Life of Chuck is the question: Why is this song and dance sequence so important? The answer is for the movie to reveal, but it matters a lot. “The life of every human being is a constellation, as expressed in this film,” Hiddleston says. “There are certain moments which will burn most brightly as individual stars. Sometimes it feels like the world is going to hell in a handcart, and it’s full of pain and suffering, and it is—but there are moments of deep joy and deep connection.”

Hiddleston shows the audience this single moment in the life of a buttoned-up fellow who somehow controls the destiny of the world. It’s not necessarily the most important day in his life, but it’s a memorable one involving a street drummer (Taylor Gordon), a lovely stranger (played by Annalise Basso), and a fateful decision to cast aside caution and cut a rug. “It’s a reminder to do whatever it is that expresses whatever gives you that feeling of being alive,” Hiddleston says. “Whether it’s music or dancing or math or writing or creativity—do it. Do it now. Those moments are what you’ll remember.”

Flanagan considered casting a relative unknown as Chuck to “give the audience the experience of ‘Who the hell is this person?’” as the peculiar retirement signs begin to appear in the midst of the apocalypse. But he felt the promise of the Loki star would build more curiosity as the world falls apart. “You grow an enormous amount of anticipation to finally spend time with an actor like Tom, who can be a literal god in one story, and then an everyman in another,” Flanagan says.

A TikTok video of Hiddleston getting his groove on sealed the deal. “He had a completely unfiltered joy on his face,” Flanagan says. “He was a good dancer, but that wasn’t what struck me. I wasn’t amazed by the technique so much as the degree of happiness that was radiating off of him. The look on his face made me smile the same way I smiled reading that particular portion of the book.”

The resulting scene was created in a month-long collaboration between Flanagan, Hiddleston, Basso, choreographer Mandy Moore (So You Think You Can Dance, and La La Land), and Gordon, a real-life percussionist who performs under the name the Pocket Queen. “Taylor was there for all of the dance choreography. She wrote that piece of music for that performance. They built it together,” Flanagan says.

Hiddleston rattles off the lists of influences: “I had to learn in six weeks the full regime of any dance training. We did jazz, swing, salsa, cha-cha, the Charleston, bossa nova, polka, quickstep, samba. We were trying to tip our hat to anything that might have influenced Chuck. It might’ve had a bit of Gene Kelly or Fred and Ginger. Certainly moonwalking—Stephen King is very specific about the moonwalk.”

Precision was not the goal, exuberance was what they sought. “We need to always bear in mind that this man is an accountant. We needed this to be an earnest, escalating explosion of joy, and a remembrance of who he was,” Flanagan says. “It’s a chance to step back into the skin of his younger self, not caring that his feet are going to kill him the next day, not caring that he’s going to wake up with a horribly stiff neck.”

A surprising thing happened while shooting the scene over the course of several sweltering afternoons in the deep South. “I burned holes in my shoes,” Hiddleston says. “I was dancing out on the asphalt in Alabama, and by the time we’d finished, you could see my socks through the soles.”

The sequence begins awkwardly: Chuck is self-conscious as he first hears the busker’s rhythm while walking back from a banking conference. That feeling quickly gets shaken off. “Tom was very committed,” Flanagan says. “He was like, ‘If I look silly, that’s fine. As long as I look happy.’”

Flanagan remembers being in a bad place when he first discovered “The Life of Chuck.” Then again, everybody was.

His copy of the manuscript arrived in March 2020. “That was just as the world shut down for COVID,” he says. “We had been a week away from starting principal photography on Midnight Mass in Vancouver and had fled across the border before it closed to make it back to the States. We were hunkered down in our homes and had no idea if this was going to last for two weeks or if this was going to last forever.”

With everything halted as the lockdown set in, Flanagan had plenty of time to do nothing but read. The new King book seemed like the perfect escape. Except…

“The first third of ‘The Life of Chuck’ just rattled me,” he recalls. “There’s no way he wrote this before the world ground to this bizarre halt—but he did. And the feeling of anxiety, and uncertainty, and that everything was falling apart came roaring out at me. I wasn’t sure I could finish it. It just felt too close to the anxiety I was feeling.” But he kept turning the pages. “By the end of it, I was in tears, and incredibly uplifted, and convinced I’d read maybe the best thing that he’d written in a decade. I just was floored by the thing,” Flanagan says. “So I fired off an email to him right away saying how much I loved the story, how incredible I thought it was, how meaningful, and important, and how it had really tattooed itself on my heart and said, ‘It’s the movie I want to make so that it’ll exist in the world for my kids.’”

King’s response: Not so fast. Flanagan and his producing partner, Trevor Macy, had at that point secured the rights to King’s fantasy saga The Dark Tower through their company, Intrepid Pictures. The eight-book series is threaded throughout King’s other works, and adapting it was a massive undertaking that Flanagan is still working to make happen. Other filmmakers had either abandoned the project, were canceled midway through, or bombed miserably. The author didn’t want him to be distracted. “He doesn’t like to give the same filmmaker more than one thing, because it typically means one thing is not advancing at all,” Flanagan says. “He said, ‘Well, let’s focus on The Tower and I’ll try to keep this one available for you for later.’”

The quest to The Dark Tower remains a priority for Flanagan, but a number of disruptions to that epic undertaking led him to reapproach King last year about Chuck. Intrepid’s deal with Netflix, where they had created Hill House, The Haunting of Bly Manor, and other shows, had come to a close, and Intrepid signed a new development agreement with Amazon. That meant starting over on The Dark Tower. Meanwhile, the threat of a double-barreled strike by writers and actors was on the horizon, stalling nearly every major new project. The industry plunged into another production-halting lockdown, this time over contract impasses rather than a virus.

Since The Dark Tower was suddenly further off on the horizon, Flanagan saw a chance to make The Life of Chuck happen in the short term. “It’s so rare that I get to approach any project that just has not an ounce of cynicism to it. I just really believed in this thing,” he says. “But it was also clear that we would have an incredibly uphill battle bringing the story to any major studio. They would try to make it as familiar as possible, instead of leaning into what makes it so different.”

King gave Flanagan his blessing to proceed. “I was off like a shot,” the filmmaker says. “I think I turned in the draft to him before he got around to sending the formal agreement.”

For everyone involved, The Life of Chuck became a bright spot in an otherwise dismal time, which matches the theme of the film. “There is a profound optimism in this story,” Hiddleston says. “As the world is spinning off its axis, there are moments of magic.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 13

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You walk along the halls of the garishly large house. You suppose anything compared to your apartment is huge. Former apartment? You mourn the loss of your previous life as it starts to sink in. No long distracted by the bristly mustache of its delightful effect on you, you can’t help but descend slowly into despair. 

You narrow your eyes at the fabric strained over shoulders blades in front of you. All he had to do was say please and be polite. He couldn’t even give you his order then blamed you for not knowing.

How on earth are you supposed to know who he is? It isn’t your fault no one told you. Now you’re starting to get mad at them too. Bre really put you in it, didn’t she?” 

“Are you growling?” Lloyd asks over his shoulder. 

“Yeah,” you answer honestly. 

“At me?” He snickers. 

“No... I should,” you grumble, “so, did you think about that sweater? Maybe a blanket? My nipples are so hard, they’re starting to hurt.” 

He stops and turns to face you. You walk straight into him and he grabs your shoulders, pushing you back to stand at arm’s length. He looks you up and down with a squint, his mustache slanting with his mouth. 

“I don’t negotiate but if I give you a blanket, do you promise to stay out of the way?” 

“Sir, if you opened the front door at this very moment, you would never see me again.” 

“Noted,” he says grimly, “go in here and stay.” He points to the door next to him as he releases you, turning the handle slowly, “don’t break anything. There should be a blanket, just don’t get too cozy.” 

“If I may, I think we would both be much happier if you let me go. Look at it this way, you got your rocks off, I got mine jangled, and now we both know a lot more about ourselves. You don’t have to ever see me again--” 

“Be quiet,” he reaches to pinch your lips shut, “Christ Almighty, you don’t shut the fuck up.” 

You try to talk past his fingers but just make a weird noise between your sealed lips. You shrug and raise your hands in surrender. He lets you go and sighs, waving through the open door. 

“Shutting fuck up,” you lift a hand in a salute and he quickly smacks it down. You shake your fingers out and hiss, “ow.” 

“Stop doing that,” he demands. 

“Fine,” you make a face and turn past him. At this point, you don’t care. This house is too cold and you don’t think he’ll take your advice about his central air bill. Looks like he can afford it, even if the ozone might suffer. “Erm, thanks?” 

“Whatever,” he grabs the door and shuts it behind you with a snap. 

You turn to it as you hear the lock click. His footsteps march off swiftly and you wiggle the handle. Drats. You could try a window but you’re hardly equipped for the descent. 

You face the room and look around. It’s nice. For New Jersey, which this isn’t. Amid the golden lamps, the velvet chaise, and the safari statues, a fluffy leopard print throw calls your name. You bound over to the clamshell chair and swipe it up, wrapping your shivering figure in the faux fur. At least you hope it’s not real. How would Floyd like it if someone skin his lip for, er, well... what could you even do with that? 

You sit and bask in the warmth. Oh, you almost feel human. If you didn’t smell of sweat and sex. What a pervert!  

It’s all so twisted the more you think of it. Worse is how much you enjoy it. Even if he’s a big dodo head, you have to admit, he knows what he’s doing. Well, compared to you, who doesn’t? You’ve seen it all but haven’t done so much. 

You peer around. It’s really tempting to play with that wooden tiger figurine or that metal orby thing with all the rings. You close your eyes and resist. How can he put you in this room and expect you not to go wild. Literally. It’s like being in a jungle. You gave him the benefit of the doubt about the mustache but this room alone assures you he’s living in some 70s exploitation fantasy. 

You curl up on your side in the chair and sigh. You close your eyes and think. This morning, everything was normal. Kind of. You almost long for the beginning of the spiral now that you’re spinning in it.

How long is he going to keep you here? And what happens after? Do you get your money back? Your apartment? Definitely, not your dignity. 

You don’t remember falling asleep but it’s a happy relief until consciousness breaks through like a nail through paper. You wake up with a lurch and nearly fall out of the chair, gaping up at the blue eyes boring down into you. You give Floyd with no F a sheepish smile. 

“Oh, hello, sir,” you sit up cautiously, “I’m happy to report I kept my hands to myself.” 

“You snore. Loud.” 

“Ah, well, I’ve had quite the day. I guess I really needed a nap--” 

“Get up,” he grabs you by the back of the neck and forces you to your feet. 

“Ow, eek,” you pull at his wrist, “did your meeting go okay?” 

“Why the fuck do you care?” He snarls. 

“I don’t, I was being polite,” you try to wriggle free, “judging by the attitude, it didn’t--” 

“What the fuck do you know about my business?” He snips. 

“As much as I wanna know. Nada,” you roll your eyes and manage to break free. “Ouch, bro.” 

“Bro?” He grimaces. 

“Dude, sir, whatever,” you huff and catch the blanket as it slips, “I’ve been nothing but nice, you know, but you’re starting to piss me off.” 

“I’m pissing you off?” He tilts his head and crosses his arms, “you--” 

“Got it. You can’t stand me but it didn’t stop you from diving into my southern hemisphere,” you sniff. 

The air roils with his agitation. You hug yourself defiantly as you cling to blanket and stare him in the face. He looks down at you, bringing a hand up to rub his chin. He sucks his teeth and reaches with his other hand to yank the blanket away. You cry out, hanging onto it as he lurches you.  

The blanket stretches between you in a tug-of-war. He nearly takes you of your feet as he gives it a hefty pull. You hold onto it, planting your feet but he easily keeps hold of his end. You use all your strength to add to the tension and as you see him go to yank again, you let go.

Lloyd staggers back as the blanket drops from his grasp. He flails and hits the chaise, crashing over it as he bounces off the cushion onto the other side. He groans as his feet remain atop the velvet. You inch over to look at him, his shoulders to the floor as his face strains. 

“You stupid little bitch,” he growls. 

“Sir,” you bite down on a smile as you stand over him, “why are you so mad? You won.” 

[phoenixyfriend]

Mandalore's Royal Concubine AU

HI

INSANE THOUGHT

YOU KNOW THAT POPULAR AU WHERE MANDALORE IS ITS OWN EMPIRE AND WHENEVER IT TAKES OVER A PLACE IT BRAINWASHES THE CAPTURED REBELS INTO BEING LOYAL CITIZENS (yes I know it's called the Integration AU)

I want one of those where you keep hearing about The Emperor but it's Plagueis, and you hear about Maul and Tyrannus and so on.

And then like ten chapters in you run into Jaster (40-ish) and the mistress he got after taking over Naboo, a 25yo Sheev Palpatine.

Dolled up and ostensibly brainwashed and known to have the Force but not any known ties to the Sith, he's just DAINTY and likes Naboo fashion and the readers are constantly hunting for The Truth. Is he a Sith that was successfully brainwashed? Biding his time? Looking to break away from Mandalore with Naboo but not a Sith? Working against the protagonist because he IS loyal to Jaster? Etc

A lot of the stuff you see people do to Obi-Wan, tbh.

Concubine Palpatine...

Also, if we go a bit down the line and instead have it with 50s-Jaster and early-40s bedwarmer Palpatine, we can have the protagonist that's meeting him for the first time be early teens Obi-Wan.

Palpatine has been in Jaster's bed for like. Twenty years by that point lol.

WAIT NO. NOT JUST A CONCUBINE. THE MAN'S A WAR PRIZE TWKYMSKTZKGZ

Palpatine, being Force-Sensitive and politically important, had led a resistance against Mandalore In His Youth, but failed. May be a Sith plot to infiltrate that went sour when the brainwashing actually worked? May have been a Sith plot that failed because nobody expected Sidious to LOSE and now they've washed their hands of him. May have just been a generally shitty Force-Sensitive but unaffiliated with the Sith because Naboo was on the other side of the galaxy from the Sith Empire? I don't know and neither do the readers.

Suggested by @threebea:

Either way he wants to do terrible things to Plagueis, either for his own revenge or on behalf of his husband

Subplot people trying to say Obi-Wan is their love child and could potentially steal the throne because Sheev is also a redhead (it's not true) but dealing with both assassins and they're trying to pull power way from Mereel

Obi-Wan: .... I'm not how is this even a rumour!?

It's because like satine and he for whatever reason used Palpatine as a cover somehow when they were teens and it has 'evidence' that there's a connection

Sheev "didn't want his child treated like he was and gave him up/smuggled him away" (sad sob story)

Obi-Wan: now both Mandalorians and Sith want to kill me for potential throne stealing, and I mean I'm a Jedi, they already wanted to kill me. but this feels more personal somehow

Sheev: ......... (Does not even like Obi-Wan and owed Duke Kryze a favour or Kryze was his ally before his death or w/e)

(Sheev brainwashed or not will absolutely use this tho)

I think there's also potential in 22yo Jango trying to "adopt" Obi-Wan (against the kid's wishes, of course) and explaining away the Palpatine situation with "stay away from him, he's always plotting."

"I thought you said he was successfully integrated."

"He was! But... you know those stories about evil stepmothers? And conniving concubines? He's... both. So just stay away."

Obi-Wan so maybe he's not integrated and he's an ally (no no he is not)

I also think it would be funny if the integration DID work and DID make Palpatine loyal to Jaster, but 80% of his non-sex actions result in "please stop helping me" because the methods are always way outside what even integration-happy Mandalore is comfortable with.

Fully corrupt, but for Jaster

Palpatine is having some palace intrigue and poisoning officials

Jaster: wait no

He's full on Dowager Empress vibes but he's not even married to the guy, nor is the guy dead.

All the political intrigue and skill of the prequels but. As a royal concubine.

Should definitely have beef with Jango for whatever reason

Jango: my childhood was a nightmare because of that man ><

But Palpatine covered himself way too well for it to be proven.

That's why he's 'adotping' Obi-Wan! Needs a force sensitive that he controls (that Palpatine doesn't have access to).

God, he DEFINITELY wanted to send Jango to boarding school. I don't think Jango ACTUALLY got sent away, but Palpatine probably managed a few Summer Sleep-Away Camps.

Palpatine: so you can be perfect for your father

Palpatine: (and get out of my hair ... Maybe have an accident that would be swell)

I want him to have pet Mandalorian peacocks. Drive home the absurdity.

I've decided this AU also has a primary plot about a Mysterious Stranger that keeps showing up to help Obi-Wan (actually help, not Jango's "help") and it's implied to be a member of the lineage, like Qui-Gon or Xanatos or something. Obi-Wan begs to be his padawan, before even knowing exactly who it is. And then, it is revealed to be! A time-traveller! Anakin, but as an adult! He hasn't even been born yet!

And then! The second twist behind the twist! Is that Anakin is not from the future but from a future, specifically! Canonverse RotS!

Ahsoka may or may not have been pulled along. And/or Rex.

Fuck it, maybe even Padmé with the twins?

Generally, all their important future knowledge, must notably that Palpatine is Sidious! Is useless.

Everything is just Too Different.

And in the middle of all that shit, Obi-Wan is introduced to the boogeyman of Anakin's nightmares, a Mandalorian concubine.

[pikahlua]

I have literal zero horse in this race so good faith question: does "koi" (come) sometimes have the same potentially negative connotation as "come on/come here"? while you occasionally hear adventure-y protagonists say "come on" in an excited "come join me/let's go!" kind of way, the only way I've ever heard it used irl is in annoyance, like "come onnnn [implied hurry up], or a curt "c'mon let's go." as someone with limited Japanese skill and who knows Bakugou usually takes the shortest way to say stuff, the only thing that bothers me about the translation is the excessive ellipses the localization team uses in general—though here it feels like maybe it's meant to soften the negative implication mentioned above? also Bakugou being Bakugou him not saying hurry up or saying let's go actually feels like it's prioritizing Deku as an equal and a natural place to end. like there's no more doubt, it's just a direct statement to come join him/everyone because Deku deserves this.

MY WISH CAME TRUUUEEEE

(I know you're not the same anon though, and you are far more polite about it ❤️)

Gosh you've given me so much to respond to as well. Gonna break it down for you.

1. Potential negative connotations in "koi"?

Technically, yes, the word "koi" in Japanese does have negative connotations! That's because the verb is conjugated into imperative form, which is also known as "command form." Commands in Japanese are considered to be rude. It's about more than just a casual way of speaking--telling someone to do something is considered outright rude. The more polite way to phrase this word would be in request form as "kite."

But it's Katsuki. EVERYTHING he says is in the rudest form possible. That context is super important. It's why all his classmates have to warm up to him for talking like a wannabe yakuza all the time, even to older people. At some point, they all just accept Katsuki talks like this regardless of what he ACTUALLY thinks about the people around him. And to be clear, this applies to more people than just Katsuki. It's one way socially-equal guys talk to each other in Japanese. The casual/rudeness can easily be heard as dude-speak too (I'll address this more in a moment). So the fact that Katsuki is the one saying this otherwise rude word doesn't come across as actually malicious but rather as just familiar and casual and masculine.

To further elaborate, this "koi" Katsuki speaks is meant to show a change between him at the end compared with back in the summer camp arc. The "Stay back, Deku" he says before he disappears in Kurogiri's portal is ALSO spoken in command form as "kunna Deku." ("Kunna" is actually a contraction of "kuruna" btw.) It's command form of the exact same verb "kuru (to come)" but also in NEGATIVE form. The literal translation of what he says there is "Don't come, Deku," compared with at the very end where he says "Come, Deku." Now obviously those phrases just sound WEIRD in English, so of course the translators had to localize them a bit to make them sound like something an English-speaking teenager would actually say, hence we get "Stay back," and "C'mon."

And to round it all off, I'll address the dude-speak part now. Katsuki isn't the only character who says "koi," so we actually can see how consistent the translator was with this word for an entirely different character!

The dudest of the bros, KIRISHIMAAAAAAAA!

And yes, Katsuki reaching out for Izuku and saying the exact same thing Kirishima said is absolutely a parallel, and it's the most-obviously-on-purpose parallel Horikoshi ever drew.

2. Potential neutral connotations in "c'mon"?

Now, one may argue "Wait, it's not a consistent translation! Because 'come on' is not the same as 'c'mon'!"

To which I say, "Your regionalism is showing."

Anon, I'm gonna be real, I have a real hard time believing you have only ever heard "c'mon" spoken in an annoyed or curt way. I absolutely believe that's the way you hear it the most often, but I have a hard time not believing you've heard it in other contexts but your brain just interpreted those moments for you as "come on" despite the speaker using the contraction.

But! Because I truly believe that's what you do in your head without realizing it (our brains are fantastic at quickly correcting other people's mistakes in pronunciation and grammar that don't match our internal models of our fluent languages), I'm not mad at you or anything. I just want to bring it to your attention that either that's the case or else you live in a particular region where no one uses the word "c'mon" in other contexts. But this is such a silly specific thing to hold the translator to (and you clearly don't, so kudos to you). And even if "c'mon" is ONLY spoken in an annoyed fashion, well, @bakuhatsufallinlove says it best:

even if c'mon could sound annoyed......... it's kacchan........... his love language is gremlin fury he's a tsundere....... "C'MON DAMMIT" he yells flustered and embarrassed about how bad he wants to hold hands

It's still in-character for Katsuki to say something affectionate in such a rude manner! We just established this above! If anything, it's consistent for the translator to have contracted the word to "c'mon" because that's what they do to translate Katsuki ALL OVER THE PLACE in the story.

But if it matters to you, no, I do not read the word "c'mon" in an annoyed or curt manner. I read it as fairly neutral if a bit casual.

3. Ellipses

I'm not mad at you or making fun of you when I say this, but I just have to say it.

watch them come back at you and be like "IT WAS THE ELLIPSES I WAS TALKING ABOUT" XD

I JUST HAVE TO SAY I CALLED IT!

Really, I'm serious, I am NOT making fun of you. The reason I suspected this would be some people's major gripe is actually quite fascinating. Younger generations have come to see the ellipses in casual conversation as rude or sarcastic:

For many older adults, using several dots between sentences acts as a natural break or a means to distinguish different ideas. In contrast, younger generations often perceive this habit as puzzling, finding it confusing or even off-putting. "It drives me up a wall," remarked one Gen Z user, echoing a sentiment shared by many who encounter this texting style.

No, I'm not about to say MHA was translated by Baby Boomers. I'm laughing because I too am of a young enough generation to see the ellipses as awkward in a casual text-based conversation. It has a certain "tone" to me. But it's funny because there's something else going on here with MHA entirely.

This isn't casual text-based conversation. This is formal publication.

The ellipses has an ENTIRELY DIFFERENT meaning in formal publication. The ellipses used here in chapter 430 of MHA is about formatting consistency. Somehow, the people who complain about the ellipses in Katsuki's final line fail to see that the ellipses ARE USED FUCKING EVERYWHERE IN MHA. LIKE IT'S A FUCKING INFESTATION OF ELLIPSES.

Do you know how many ellipses are present in the translation of MHA chapter 430? 75, and only 8 of which are actual ellipses considered "spoken" by a character. The rest?

They're bridges connecting sentences spoken across multiple speech bubbles.

Hell, on the same damn page as Katsuki's "C'mon, Deku," ALL MIGHT DOES THE SAME THING!

This is not meant to be read as "You've also... ...earned this power fair and square!!" You're meant to ignore the ellipses. All they tell you is that this is a single sentence broken up into pieces on the page. It's the SAME for Katsuki's line! For the purposes of reading Katsuki's final line, those ellipses are effectively not there. They're bridges for the visual m-dashes or commas that the multiple speech bubbles might represent.

So don't knock the translator for consistently following a standard formatting convention. That's, like, his actual job lol.

[itsclydebitches]

Hazbin Hotel: Let's Talk About Cursing!

Trigger warning for lots of cursing in this post (obviously) and discussion of canon abuse scenes

As I delve further into the Hazbin Hotel fandom, I’ve inevitably come across a variety of people who dislike the show for an equal variety of reasons. One criticism I’ve seen with some consistency is in regards to the cursing and yeah, I get it. That’s not going to be everyone’s cup of tea. However, the repeated claim that the cursing is only there as a—failed—attempt at bad, lazy humor got me thinking about why I personally liked the cursing, and why I think it serves a greater purpose in the show.

Now yes, some of the cursing does function as an arguably simplistic joke. The most common setup I’ve noticed is one that leans into a contrast in tone/personalities. We see this a lot with the polite, comparatively timid Charlie as she navigates her distinctly vulgar domain.

Charlie: “Hi, mister!” Demon: “Go fuck yourself!”

The entirety of “Happy Day in Hell” plays with this contrast, setting up Charlie’s slightly skewed, but significantly optimistic perspective of Hell. We are shown again and again how her lyrics are contradicted or twisted into something less innocent through the visuals: a “revealing” street where it’s “hard not to stare” has BDSM going on in a nearby window, Charlie will “open the door” for her people and then literally does so... for a guy who’s already dead. (Or, you know, temporarily out of commission until he heals, or whatever demons do when they’re ‘killed’ by things other than angelic steel.) The entire point here is to contrast the happy, skipping girl claiming that there’s a “warm, fuzzy feeling” in the air with the actual environment of unchecked fires and decaying limbs. And yes, that can be amusing. Not necessarily for everyone as humor is highly subjective and dependent on context, but distilling this contrast down to the shock of a polite greeting getting a “Go fuck yourself!” in response is a kind of entertainment. Especially when Charlie’s reaction adds another layer: for me that’s a very funny—and currently relatable—expression.

We can potentially make the case that this humor format overstays its welcome, but I personally think the show does a good job of keeping Charlie’s cursing both simple and comparatively rare, so that when she is put into these contrast situations the humor lands better. The best example I can think of in the latter half of the show is Susan. There we get the whiplash of polite, trying-to-get-these-people-to-like-her Charlie reaching a breaking point to become “FUCK YOU, YOU OLD BITCH” Charlie. It’s a moment that builds off of the earlier surprise of the courteous Alastor calling someone an “Ornery old bitch”—while Rosie is trying (and failing) to find a nicer way to phrase this.

However, as stated above I think the cursing serves more of a purpose than to just be funny for (some) viewers. Beyond those who simply find cursing distasteful, I’ve seen a fair bit of, “This is so stupid. No one even talks like that!” going around.

Except... I do? I talk like that.

See, I like cursing. I was born to former hippie parents and grew up playing MMOs, so cursing was something I became pretty acclimated to. Personally, I’m glad I was because I’m fascinated by language and cursing—for better or worse—is an integral way that many people communicate. I was taught to see cursing not as the Bad Forbidden Thing You Must Never Ever Do, but rather as just another form of expression, something to be used in moderation and under specific circumstances. Once I became an adult I already understood how I wanted to curse and when it was appropriate to do so. People at work are often shocked when I tell them I curse a lot because no, of course I’m not doing that at my job. That isn't considered professional in this space. Among my friends though?

We can sound a lot like the Hazbin crew.

Undoubtedly the most common curse in the show is “fuck” and its variations, which very much tracks with my personal experience among other people who curse. In fact, it’s so ubiquitous that it barely counts as a curse at all in some groups. It’s more of an easy, accepted way to add emphasis. Vaggie’s “What the fuck was that?” about Alastor’s commercial is a perfect example. She’s pissed and simply saying “What was that?” doesn’t carry the same weight, no matter how angry she may sound when she says it. Vox’s long “Fuuuuuuuck” at the end of “Stayed Gone” conveys an emotion you just can’t capture any other way. No dialogue at all would create a fundamentally different experience of Vox’s feelings and another non-cursing response is just gonna hit different. Not necessarily bad, just different.

“I don’t want to go to the party!” “I don’t want to go to the freaking party!” “I don’t want to go to the fucking party!”

The above represents three distinct characters to me and I think Hazbin Hotel gets that. Cursing isn’t thrown around randomly because something something cursing supposedly sells; it’s all linguistically logical. Characters curse when something surprising or bad happens, or when something unexpectedly good happens, when they’re angry, trying to be sexy, or they want to add that emphasis. That’s a lot of different situations where cursing can be useful and when you use “fuck” in your daily life a lot you become pretty desensitized to it. As said, for many it’s barely a curse at all. Which means that when you really want to curse you’ve got to up the ante. It doesn’t surprise me one bit that the two uses of “cunt” I can recall—a word that is generally considered far worse than “fuck” and makes a lot of people understandably uncomfortable—is used by two of the worst characters in moments that are meant to horrify the viewer:

Adam: “Can’t wait a whole year to slaughter those little cunts / I know it’s just been a week, but we’ll be back in six months!” Valentino: “When I say you’d better get that fucking cunt out of my studio, you say...?”

This horror is especially emphasized in Valentino’s scene. The creators know this word is coming up and deliberately build towards it. Angel is currently being abused and has been reminded that Valentino “owns” him. The above question is a part of a trio that Valentino asks (a standard structure in writing), wherein the third option is the outlier/most shocking of the three. The animation leans into that shock, with the music building and Valentino grabbing Angel to pull him close right on the word “cunt.” Perez even puts emphasis there because he knows that this is a significant word that will change our understanding of Valentino.

Despite having hit Angel multiple times and taunting him with the contract, this is the moment Valentino stops playing the ‘nice’ employer. This is the real him. No more fake compliments and endearments aimed at Charlie, no more fake comfort/intimacy aimed at Angel. That “cunt” conveys a hell of a lot about how Valentino really sees them and when you have a cast of characters who are already cursing on the regular, it takes a word on that level to do that kind of work. If Valentino had said, “get that fucking bitch out of my studio” it wouldn’t have had nearly the same impact because he’s the kind of guy who uses "bitch" even when playing ‘nice.’

Adam’s line from “Hell is Forever” does very similar work. The scene needs a word to align with the horrific reveal that another extermination is just six months away, that conveys Adam’s deep disgust for Charlie’s people, and that still catches the viewer’s attention even though he’s the character (I believe) who curses the most. Here the music drops and Adam is a little closer to speaking than singing; there's this shift because, like with Valentino, our perception of him is shifting. This isn’t just some egotistical idiot who wants to be called “Dick Master,” he’s the leader of an army coming to gleefully kill them. Framing a whole world of people—people Charlie loves—as “cunts” while treating their murder as a holiday that can’t come soon enough creates an, 'Oh shit. This guy is actually a threat' understanding that you can’t quite get with anything else.

On a smaller scale, cursing does other character work throughout the whole show. I watched a number of cursing compilation vids for this meta (that was a trip lol) and again, cursing is not thrown in randomly. Each character has a unique way of cursing that aligns with their personality and motivations:

As said, Adam curses the most in the show which helps sell his truly over-the-top, irreverent personality. Linguistically, the amount he curses also allows for some fun grammatical play. Lines like, “Fucking love putting my name on shit, shit’s the best!” help convey the versatility of cursing.

Also as said, Charlie curses a fair bit but she’s comparatively polite and her cursing tends to be a result of genuinely big emotions—like saying “Crap” when she’s shocked and falls, or “Shit!” when Adam locks her out of the room—rather than sprinkled into her conversations as a modifier. That leaves space to create those moments of amused surprise when Charlie really let’s loose.

Sr Pentious curses even less than Charlie which fits his secretly gooey center. He talks a big game at the start of the show, but he’s actually quite bad at being, well, bad (especially the Amazon version compared to pilot!Pentious). His idea of getting one over on Alastor is ripping a bit of his coat. He loves his Egg Bois and “doesn’t want to live” without them. He has no desire to go into battle without minions/a big machine to hide behind and, of course, he’s the first to be redeemed. He's too much of a secret sweetheart to curse a lot.

Interestingly, Niffty doesn’t seem to curse at all. At least, not enough for me to think of examples off the top of my head. Right now I’m inclined to read that as an extension of her lived experiences/design—the cute 1950’s housewife archetype who is obsessed with keeping things clean doesn’t [gasp!] curse—as well as a way to maintain her legitimate creep factor. As said, cursing is common among the hotel residents and is a way for them to linguistically fit in. Niffty, however, is positioned more as an outsider (despite how much they all obviously love her): she’s actually scary in a way most demons aren’t and despite how weird this whole world is, she stands out as someone no one else can make sense of (even Alastor). If cursing is normal, Niffty is a character who is decidedly positioned as not normal.

Angel curses a fair bit, though his irreverence is conveyed more through innuendos. Angel is great at verbally twisting others’ words (especially Husk’s) to give himself a conversational advantage:

Husk: “Go fuck yourself” Angel: “Only if you watch me~”

Husk: “You’ve come—” Angel: [very loud orgasm noise] Husk: “...to the right place.”

Meanwhile, Husk uses “fuck” plenty, but he’s also one of the few characters who use “bullshit" too. I wouldn’t say there’s anything particularly revealing about that choice, but just giving him a go-to curse that’s otherwise used infrequently helps make his character distinct in a cast of other cursing characters.

Vaggie occasionally curses in Spanish, showing us her heritage if she used to be human, or a distinct knowledge/verbal preference if she’s always been an angel.

Heaven, as the ‘good’ side, doesn’t curse as a general rule, which leaves room for cursing to do more of that silent character work. We’re reminded of the stuffy, overly critical beings she’s dealing with when Charlie receives the combined judgement of the court for saying, “Fuck yeah!” In contrast, we understand just how shocked St. Peter is to see a Morningstar when he lets out an unintentional “Fuck!” The angry vindication of Charlie’s “That’s what the fuck I’ve been saying!” lands harder after multiple scenes of very little cursing, and Lute’s “Some crack-whore who fucked up already? / He blew his shot like the cocks in his mouth—” helps set her apart as an exorcist + Adam's second in command: her shocking violence comes through in her word choice too; words that supposedly don't belong in Heaven.

In what’s arguably the funniest line in the whole show, Lucifer undermines his dramatic standoff with Adam by going, “You mess with my daughter and now I’m going to fuck you.” Beyond just cutting the tension, that fits his bumbling, oblivious personality perfectly. Lucifer is crazy powerful and can absolutely wreck Adam. He also has none of the classy intimidation that, say, Alastor displays when he tries to convey that. This is a depressed himbo who makes ducks in his free time and settles on, “Hey, bitch!” when greeting his estranged daughter. Of course he’s going to accidentally turn a threat into a promise of sex.

Which finally brings me to Alastor, someone whose cursing is already understood well by the fandom. He’s characterized as manipulatively courteous, using manners to both hide his true nature and draw attention to his power—’You’re so beneath me I’ll just calmly sip my coffee and politely ask who you are, despite the fact that we've fought multiple times.’ This is a guy who calls people “My dear” and unironically insults them with the phrase “wacky nonsense.” So when he curses you can BET it’s gonna have an impact. It sure did for me. I had to pause the episode after Alastor’s first “Fuck you” because it was so shocking to hear that language from him. And that’s the point! The scene wants that reaction from the audience. The "Fuck you"s visceral anger contrasting the fake laughs he and Lucifer have been giving, the quick-fire exchange that’s suddenly cut short by Alastor’s choice of a direct insult, the fact that he’s officially dropping the polite veneer they’ve both been indulging in and raising the stakes before Charlie intervenes, the loss of the radio filter that otherwise demonstrates his control over a situation... all of it screams, ‘THIS IS AN IMPORTANT CHARACTER MOMENT.’

"Fuck you” reveals that, for the first time in the show, Alastor is legitimately threatened by someone. Which makes sense given that, you know, Lucifer is the King of Hell. Cursing for Alastor isn’t normal, so when he does curse it’s going to reveal something about a guy who otherwise is obsessed with being unknowable. Having the King of Hell dismiss him is actually infuriating in a way Sir Pentious’ threats could never be and the exchange kicks off a rivalry that rattles Alastor in ways Vox’s never has. (Side note: is it any wonder people ship them? Character A making control freak Character B feel vulnerable is classic!) It’s no surprise to me than that the one other true curse we get from Alastor is, “I’m about to end your fucking life,” delivered to Adam who, like Lucifer, poses a legitimate threat and does end up beating him. I say “true” curse because calling Susan a “bitch” does similar work for him, but the takeaway is humorous rather than dramatic. It’s funny that the only people who can piss Alastor off enough to curse are the First Man/a powerful exorcist angel threatening his life, the literal King of Hell... and Susan.

So there’s a lot going on here, more than what many viewers might assume if they approach the show as just “stupid,” needlessly vulgar entertainment. As shown above, I don’t think the cursing is needless, especially given that, well... they’re in Hell. They’re sinners, supposedly the worst that humanity has to offer, so of course they're going to curse a lot. Does cursing mean you’re a bad person? No. Can you craft a hellish world that doesn't rely on cursing to convey a group's immoral nature? Sure.

Does it make sense that a writer would equate a sinful, irreverent cast with linguistic rebellion and would want to convey a certain vibe that, frankly, you just can’t get without dropping an F bomb?

Yeah, I think so. No one has to like that kind of creative decision, but it’s worth acknowledging it as a deliberate choice.

That’s all! Thanks for reading this fucking long post ✌️

[paintingpuff]

HB The Full Moon, and Stolas' Mistakes from Trauma

A lot of people have correctly pointed out that Blitzø lashing out in TFM is a trauma response, but what I haven't seen as many talk about is how Stolas’ reactions are also a trauma response. 

Longer analysis under the cut 

Throughout the series you can see that when Stolas is upset or vulnerable in front of other people, he defaults to politeness and royal decorum. 

Some good examples of him doing this in front of Blitzø is Ozzie’s. When Blitzø insults his date outfit Stolas is visibly upset, but quickly regains his composure into a noble strut, and when Blitzø pushes him away at the end of the episode Stolas gives him a formal bow. Only when Blitzø drives away does Stolas give himself the freedom to cry (and even then it looks like he's holding himself back, even when alone).

Stolas not being willing to cry (especially in front of other people) is also a common through line, and both of these behaviors can be very easily rooted back to his father. Throughout The Circus we see Paimon policing the way Stolas expresses himself, such as scolding him for crying or bowing to an imp. 

This is also why he got such a thrill when flirting with Blitzø, since that’s one of the only times where he can be very outgoing and crass.  

In regards to his relationship with Octavia and Stella, Stolas clearly is taking on the role of the Peacemaker for the sake of Octavia. This is pretty explicitly stated in The Circus, but can also be inferred from the fact that Octavia didn't realize her parents hated each other so much until she was older back in LooLoo Land. 

So Stolas’ strategy for dealing with Stella is not to match her anger and potentially escalate the conflict, but instead quietly endure for the sake of peace (and appearances). Even when he's visibly angry at Stella during their Still-Not-Divorced party, he doesn’t even speak to her. He just withdraws with some alcohol (and then Blitzø). His strategy to things that upset him (and especially anger or cruelty directed at him) seems to be to just leave as soon as he possibly can, and if he can't then endure it without showing how upset he is. 

(It's also worth pointing out that what Stella described when she and Stolas sleep together also looks like withdrawing behavior. It's just all over their marriage, really.)

So during their confrontation in The Half Moon, you can see Stolas go through every single one of these trauma responses as he feels like Blitzø rejects him. 

When Blitzø harshly pushes back against Stolas’ confession (because Blitzø cannot comprehend someone sincerely liking him like that), you see Stolas put his regal hat back on and emotionally retreat to his usual politeness with "I wish you the best for your business," before physically retreating by walking out of the room. 

My guess is he was already close to crying by this point and was trying to withdraw from the situation before Blitzø could see it, but Blitzø chases after him. Even as Blitzø yells at him, he keeps his face turned away as much as possible. 

He never interrupts or argues back when Blitzø lashes out at him (which could be reminiscent of the way Stella always lashed out). He then gives his single response, unable to hold back the tears anymore (which Stolas only barely turns for Blitzø to see), before a quick goodbye and teleporting Blitzø away before he can even receive an apology. 

(Also, since this is definitely the first time Blitzø has ever seen Stolas cry, this moment hits even harder for the both of them.)

If Stolas had waited a little longer to hear that apology, or just stayed to let Blitzø process what he was hearing, the break up might not have happened. But then he wouldn't be acting like Stolas, would he?

A lot of people have correctly pointed out that Stolas was incorrect in not giving Blitzø the proper time to process any of their conversation, and that Blitzø’s trauma made him react the way he did. But what I do love about how the confrontation was written is that it's not all one party's fault or the other. Both of their traumas have instilled certain responses that clash beautifully this episode, between Blitzø’s instinct to push back and Stolas’ instinct to pull away. 

It's a goddamn soap opera and I love it. 

(Side note: the trailer revealed clips that seems to show Stolas' going on a petty revenge streak with Blitzø due to this breakup, which I think will be both fun to watch and a good/interesting step for Stolas' character. It will be one of the few times he properly expresses his anger and makes a scene rather than placate one. Though with that kind of intoxicating rage I can definitely see him taking it too far, especially since the breakup wasn't solely Blitzø's fault, but both parties are likely to interpret it that way. Thus, the soap opera continues.)

[colourstreakgryffin]

Heyyy! May I request headcanons for Carmila CarminexReader who has similar mannerisms to Obanai? (Both live rent free in my head) Have a good day/night!!!

Haha. Awww, that’s cute and I can absolutely see it! I am not sure how it’d go personally but let’s try it out for fun. Shall we! God, I struggled with this so much so I’m sorry if it blows

Carmilla Carmine- Bandy-Bandy

You’re a unique one, that’s for sure. Thats what Carmilla tells herself when her beloved daughters, Clara and Odette, brought you as a brand new potential employee for them. A lonely quiet determined sinner with a connection to all kinds of snakes

Carmilla watches you, at first, to test how good you are at the job her precious daughters gave you and she is pleased with the results. You’re quite good but you’re also kinda isolated and don’t talk to anybody besides your hyper-intelligent ‘scarf-snake’ friend

But then Carmilla’s watching becomes one of interest… you’re interesting, your behaviour is a lot less than what she suspected from a Sinner worker and how antisocial and distance you are is intriguing for anybody, even her

Carmilla does end up approaching you and she gives you a luck h… despite the fact you already have one and whilst you’re kinda blunt and quiet and uninterested, you’re polite and respectful since you know her position and let her accompany you

So, this became routine. Everyday, Carmilla comes over to you during lunch and presents you with a fancy lunch she has made for you and enjoys a lunch break with you. She is more of the talker whilst you listen to her quietly, surprisingly

Carmilla took a while but she’s been relatively open, talking about her beloved daughters, about other Overlords annoying her during meetings, about a number of things about herself. It’s shocking for a strong mature woman like her to even speak on these things with her new employee

It took quite some time but throughout all the sessions Carmilla has befriended and talking to you and having a meal with you privately, you ended up developing quite the fat crush on her to the point you get jealous and agitative towards others being close to her… except Zestial, to a degree

Carmilla doesn’t really notice how protective and aggressive you’ve become to others. She just believes you and her are good friends but you don’t feel that way at all; you love her dearly, so much that she is now basically your everything… even after you feared women heavily due to your awfully tragic past including your primarily female cult of a family

You don’t really eat unless Carmilla is nearby and since Carmilla is a kind graceful yet powerful woman, even as a mighty Overlord, she’ll eat with you since she notices how dependent you are… on her? She suspects it’s something to do with comfort so doesn’t question it too much

Carmilla is your starlight, the sugary yet tough mochi that has truly changed your life from a bland hell of self-deprecation and loathing to something much worth it. Now, you can actually express emotions better and you want to give yourself fully to Carmilla as to express how much you adore her

Carmilla is seemingly oblivious to your intense love for her as she has grown to view you, as she acts, like a surrogate child of hers. She doesn’t notice your affections and favouritism and much more, she just believes you’re a enthusiastic employee of the business that wishes to please it

Carmilla does, in general, appreciate and like you. It’s why she still approaches and tries to bond with you to this day. You’re a mysterious, quiet but fearless and strong and willing to rip people a new one. She respects that and it’s a reason she likes you

“Hello once more, dear friend. It’s been quite the rough day. My girls have had the hardest hours for quite a few years recently. Would you like to hear it?”

[thishazbinamistake]

Spoilers.

Episode 6 was overall pretty decent, but it was the episode that truly made me realize just how much I hate the swearing in Vivzie's shows. Like, I know people like to joke about her bizarre obsession with cursing, but in my opinion, it genuinely, actively harms the worldbuilding and tone of her series.

In Hell, people swearing makes sense, and as obnoxious as I find it, I can look past it. Hell is supposed to be chaotic and raunchy, so it checks out that its residents would have little regard for politeness and social etiquette. But when we're introduced to Heaven, this supposedly very clean-cut and conservative society, and the angels regularly curse there as well, it makes the whole dichotomy between the two feel much weaker. It would be one thing if it was just Adam who swore a lot, and he was treated as sort of an outlier, but literally the first angel Charlie and Vaggie meet at the golden gates says fuck! Why?! There was no point to it. It wasn't even funny!

And then, there was the court room scene. As always, Adam is cursing every other word because that's his entire personality, I guess. None of the others seem to think anything of this angel talking like this, but when the literal princess of Hell says fuck once, Sera and Emily look all shocked and disapproving like it's the most blasphemous thing they've ever heard. Why?! Have you not been hearing the shit that's been coming out of Adam's mouth for the past 10 minutes??

It would have made way more sense and honestly been way funnier if angels absolutely never swore, and Charlie swearing was sort of a culture shock to them. And if they really wanted to keep Adam as a foul-mouthed dickhead, he could have at least put up a more polite and chaste front to give the impression that he's a well-behaved angel in front of the Seraphim. It was so hypocritical and nonsensical to the point it honestly feels like a writing oversight.

By far the worst example of all this to me is the ending of the episode. It's revealed to Charlie that Vaggie was once an exterminator, to the shock and horror of the both of them. This is portrayed as an extremely serious and dire revelation that could potentially change the two's relationship forever. I felt a lot of suspense, and it honestly made me hold my breath for a moment...

...but then it's immediately followed up by Adam saying "Oh, fuck yes! Suck it, bitches!" in his annoying surfer-dude voice and it just completely shatters the tone to pieces. Any and all tension is just gone.

This is just straight up awful writing. Like we laugh at the memes but I genuinely hate Vivzie's juvenile obsession with swearing. It's not funny, it's not subversive, it's not even mature; it's just distracting, cringeworthy, and obnoxious. We can't even have a single serious moment without it being ruined with "haha fuck lol bitch!!" all because going three seconds without a swear word apparently makes Vivziepop break out into hives.

[cephydeluxe]

most Simeon/MC fics r kyute as hell, but a lot of them focus simeon's reason for "falling" (aka: disobeying father's rule of never extending a human's life by stealing the ring of light) as solely because he loves mc,

and like..... that's ok 😐 and all, but I feel like it kinda narrows simeon's character a bit ((but the following thoughts below r my interpretation so take this more as appreciation than a criticism of any other interpretations of simeon))

Simeon, regardless of whether or not it's reciprocated, still feels brotherly love for the brothers. They were once his brothers, and when it came time to wage war against them in the name of their Father, he refused to fight them and was demoted.

His love for his family made him refuse God's orders because the idea of harming his family was worse than the disapproval of God.

"ok well what does this have 2 do w the ring of light" shut up ill get 2 that >:(

I'm not gonna recap much cause my phone's at like 8% idgaf srry 😒. The only important parts is that mc's existence and pacts w the brothers is highly unstable and causing chaos in the three realms, and the only ways to fix it are to either kill lucifer with the night dagger, or to obtain the ring of light from the celestial realm.

So it's either trade lucifer's life for mc's, or steal the ring from micheal. The ring is immediately ruled out because demons can't enter the celestial realm, and it would probably (most definitely) cause a political shitstorm if a demon did steal it.

So the only option left is to kill lucifer, and right as mc is given the choice of killing him or themself, here comes Simeon, fresh from the celestial realm with the stolen ring of light in tow

Now, most fics tend to depict these events as simeon risking his status as archangel (an already unstable position given his refusal to fight during the war) as a huge romantic sacrifice because of his love for mc.

And that's,, cute ig but there is so many more things going on in that scene (2 me at least, solmare isn't really known 4 their writing 🫢)

Simeon's sacrifice in stealing the ring, in potentially incurring the wrath of God, in committing the same sin Lilith did to be disowned and even killed by their shared Father, and in risking his home he was raised and lived in for his entire life,

was both for his family that he has missed for thousands of years and for the person who healed them when he himself was unable to.

The TSL series (written by Simeon before the exchange program) are a retelling of the events between the avatars and mc. Even after they are cast out of heaven for treason and simeon is demoted for not wanting to hurt them, he still cares about them and wants the best for them, writing stories about them and their "Henry".

Even if the brothers treat him coldly and distantly, he still cares about them deeply enough that the prospect of killing lucifer? Their eldest brother?

The one who constantly does everything in his power to keep the rest of his family safe after the death of his sister?

The one who traded his loyalty to the demon prince after just landing after being thrown out of his home?

It's completely unthinkable to Simeon.

So that just leaves MC, then. The reincarnation of Lilith and the friend of all seven brothers, even after being violently killed by one of them,

(belphie, cough cough)

Still accepts all of them and keeps them together, and at this point in the story, is practically welcomed as a fixture in their messy yet tight-knit family.

For MC to sacrifice themself for the brothers would be to break them, to leave another unfillable void in their hearts like Lilith did so many years ago. The moment things would return to normal and Lucifer regained his memories would be devastating, knowing that yet again he failed to keep his family safe and whole.

Grief for MC's death would be felt far and wide, Simeon included.

Both outcomes of using the night dagger are unthinkable to Simeon, both causing unimaginable grief for everyone.

So the ring of light is all that remains.

It's a no-brainer, really.

Angels aren't restricted from the celestial realm, and if the ring is stolen by an angel, it has a way less likely chance of falling back on the devildom, on the fragile peace him and many others have worked so hard to facilitate between the three realms.

So what if the consequences will primarily fall upon Simeon alone, it matters little to the certain disaster either outcomes of wielding the night dagger will bring. Both Lucifer and MC will be unharmed, and the chaos will end.

But could you imagine the feelings he must have felt?

In the chamber where the ring of light is kept, having just snuck past Micheal, a twist in his gut from breaking the most basics of holy disciplines he has spent his entire life embodying, just staring at the ring of light in its container, the last momento of a father's love for his favorite child before disowning him.

It's a warning, a sign that tells Simeon that he will be next to fall if he takes this ring.

He takes it anyway, throwing his loyalty to God away if it means saving Lucifer, saving his family, saving the peace they've obtained without him.

A penance, maybe, for his inaction in the war, when perhaps one seraphim could've made a difference, if not win the war, then at least could've spared Lilith's life.

Can you imagine how he must have felt, standing in front of MC with the ring in his hands?

Lilith's sin that started the war wasn't just that she fell in love with a human, it was when she extended the life of her lover because of it. A clear defiance of Father's will, to negate written fate for the sake of her selfish love was what got her killed.

And here Simeon stands, staring into the eyes of her reincarnation as he offers them the ring that will save them, extend their life, and doom Simeon to walk the same path their angelic ancestor died on.

The ring is a promise, of the disownment that Simeon faces, of the pain he will endure in defying God's word as an angel (whose sole objective, down to the very fabric of his being, to the very purpose of his creation, is to embody and enforce), of the corruption of his very soul that paints his ivory feathers black.

It's also a promise of devotion, of commitment to this deadly sin, this selfless sacrifice, to the human he's fallen in love with, and to the family he longs to be close with again.

It's a vow, for all the atrocities he's willing to commit for the sake of protecting those he cherishes above all else.

It's a vow, for the deeply rooted love for the human, one who's very existence is the result of the tragic end of the angel who came before him and paved the doomed path he now walks.

Like Oroboros eating its tail, Simeon's love for the demon brothers and MC is never-ending and inevitable.

When asked, he says he wishes he could've fought with the brothers in the war, so he could "stay the same as them" and that the war weighed heavily on his mind from time to time.

Ever since he watched them be cast down to hell, he was destined to fall with them someday, too.

.

.

.

(christ, this got so out of hand, this is probably a huge mess to read, srry I'm not a writer or a media analyst, this is just ramblings of someone who's got some really dramatic art to make.) simeon 4ever bby <3

(also I could make a separate post from solomon's pov where he's willing to sacrifice a pact with lucifer, something he's worked for years for a chance, just to save MC, but im sleepy goodnight)

(most of this post was written while I was listening to elden ring ost, thank u bayle the dread for making this post way more dramatic than it needed to be)

[slocumjoe]

Concept for if Bethesda loved the other Companions same as old tricky dick

Gage; a dlc that doesn't kinda suck actually, but also properly explores what being a raider entails, and what kind of people end up as one. I don't think you could actually redeem him, but I'd like that idea to be directly confronted, as least. I've talked about this before but it's wasted potential that you can't make the Nuka Gang confront the fact that Oh Shit The Farmers Are Now Dangerous

Deacon: I don't think he needs his own side quest or even DLC, but I'd like him to have side quests attached to him, a la Nick's detective cases sidequests. He's a spy. Pls let us do spy shit

Piper: Same as Deacon, but I think she actively needs a sidequest. Her character gimmick, her plot purpose, and her actual affinity talks are so unrelated it's painful. Let her journalism actually be content, not just a bit of trivia about her. A set of side quests + a personal quest that addresses Diamond City's Problems with a capital P. Lots of societal issues in that little space and we do nothing with any of it.

Preston: just fix the Minutemen and give this man a goddamn break. The Minutemen just need a rehaul, so as to not have him be the quest giver. And give him other stuff to do! I wanna actually fight the Gunners! Bring up and address the failures of the old Minutemen!!! Please!!!

X6-88: give the bitch something oh my God. Much like Gage, I don't think you can convince him to let go of the Institute, but give us a CHANCE. Emil just seems so scared to ask hard questions and use interesting concepts.

Danse; finish his arc you thots (also I think Fallout 4 really lacks some humanizing/soft moments in the world and I think Danse would be a good. Subject? For them. Like a shelter dog getting to play with ducklings. Idk but I have a vision)

MacCready: they forgot that his whole point was having a whole ass baby. Give him his child wtf.

Strong; delete

Codsworth; stronger plot presence. This robot raised that old bitch let him throw hands. Also, if you wanted to put quests in Sanctuary that spawn up as the town develops, Codsworth would be a great quest giver and tagalong as you try and keep the piece and set up some kind of society.

Curie; I've said it before. I'm saying again. Curies whole deal should have been a major plot point. She's a robot that becomes human and develops human feelings with human biology. This is not important to any faction leader. What on earth.

Cait; yall fuckin know how I feel about Cait but honestly, her personal quest sucks so much I'd rather they didn't. Just give her more and better affinity talks. She needs more time to open up and develop, and 4 conversations is not enough.

Hancock; I have quite a few nitpicks about Hancock but the fact that Micky D getting ganked and being revealed to be a synth DOESNT MATTER is insane. Macdonough's last interaction with Hancock was crucial to his character arc and not letting that circle around is so, so miserable. Also, I want politically-charged quests. Campaigning! Discussions on economy! He's a mayor of this weird little anarchy town, let us play in that space.

[gloomybadger4life]

Full Zutara meta and opinions.

Please no wars in the comments/reblogs. I'm only speaking from what I have read and my knowledge of the show. I'm largely ignoring the comics.

Any fic with Zutara as a mutually loving, long term relationship will obviously not be LoK canon compliant.

These are opinions subject to change as I further read and write stuff.

CW for mental health discussion. Heavy topics. Etc.

General considerations:

Please note I personally do not like cheating in my fics or IRL so I avoid reading and writing it. Some fics include it.

Iroh refusing to take the throne has always made me feel wary. While there are challenges to him taking it at least temporarily, the fact that he puts the whole task on Zuko is not something I take lightly. The show does not have him at the coronation. Arguments can be made about him not wanting to undermine Zuko's political sway, or him being a symbol of the war.

The treatment of Mai and Azula in some fics saddens me. Mai is wrongly depicted as frigid or mean spirited. Best case scenario their break is amicable. Or they never get back together post coronation.

I loathe when Mai is used as a jealous villain who hates Katara.

Aang's decision to spare Ozai is pivotal. I don't believe Aang should have killed him. If he wasn't the last air nomad maybe an argument could be made that he had a moral obligation to do so. Him killing Ozai would break him as a person, making him feel unworthy of his own heritage, more than he already does. As a sidenote: I want to see Aang deal with the fact that he probably indirectly killed many people in the war.

Ozai being alive is a catalyst for conflict and exploring themes of inadequacy and ideological deconstruction. Zuko could stumble by going to him for advice. He could be broken out and then rally followers to oppose Zuko.

Katara's trauma:

She has been parentified to hell and back, and in some ways Sokka has too. Her grief over her mother and the intentional sacrifice she made affects her deeply.

Her sense of justice and drive to help others may stem from wanting to make sure her mother's actions were not wasted.

She spent the whole war running on adrenaline and helping others, being equally strong and nurturing.

She overcame prejudice, sexism, and dealt with abandonment issues with her father leaving for war.

Katara's arc of sparing Yon Rah is more about her realizing she has the strength to overcome and heal. She needed to face her biggest fear and the biggest source of guilt. I believe on some level she always blames herself for her mother's death.

She deals with ptsd, and potentially burnout post war.

Zuko's trauma:

He has been abused and raised to blame himself for it.

Any successes were diminished, and compared to his sister.

If it wasn't for Iroh, who really should have tried harder to stop him from going to the war meeting, Zuko would be actively suicidal.

Overall he deals with massive anxiety, and possibly cptsd.

General Tropes and Themes:

- Aang as possessive or jealous: This is common and I interpret Aang differently. In any case he would be heartbroken about the relationship ending. Post war I see him realizing fully the weight of what rebuilding the air nation would be, that even fathering a ludicrous amount of children would not work per se.

- Katara post finale is largely free to pursue whatever she wants to do. She has no self imposed specific mission like either Aang or Zuko. In a lot of works she takes on the task of rebuilding the SWT, in other works she travels with Aang.

- Zuko is all alone dealing with being the firelord. He has to fend for himself in court, deal with Ozai loyalists, etc.

- Some works make a big deal out of Katara being a virgin and it becomes a major plot point. I don't like this being a whole thing, especially if it feels like it comes from purity culture.

- A central theme of some zutara fics is Zuko feeling a sort of devotion to Katara and striving to be better only for her. This can get unhealthy real quick.

- I dislike jealousy and controlling behavior for personal reasons. (History and Trauma) So I avoid fics with a significant amount of those.

Post Finale fics

- Ambassador Katara: I can see this happening a few years after the finale and even in non zutara fics it's a popular choice.

- Firelady Katara endgame: If it's Katara's choice and she is not being pressured I can see it.

- On the topic of steambabies: While I do see Katara as someone who would want kids, I believe she would not want them for heir and spare reasons. That's one of the biggest challenges for them as a couple if Zuko remains firelord.

On post Southern Raiders fics:

A number of fics have them getting together after this or after the last agni kai.

In my mind, this is not the right time. Their friendship is still being built, and ultimately what makes or breaks Zutara is their friendship. The stronger it is, the more I believe in the relationship.

AUs:

- Arranged marriage AUs are their own can of worms that I do not have the energy to unpack right now.

- No war AUs with no arranged marriage could work but I have nver seen one.

- Modern AUs are hard to generalize. Some are just for smut reasons and therefore concessions are made. Others tell good stories and have enjoyable romance. Using the modern world to explore Katara and Zuko's trauma can be great when done properly.

How the relationship would develop:

Best case scenario for me is six-ish years post finale.

Aang and Katara parted ways some years prior. His tendency to self isolate and the weight of his mission conflicted with Katara's motivation of wanting to help rebuild the southern water tribe.

I do not wish to portray the breakup as toxic, and would rather have them genuinely agree that they need to part ways.

Regarding Zuko and Mai: I believe they would reach an impasse where Mai cannot be the single source of emotional support for Zuko. And Zuko cannot place that task upon her. The two realize that they might have worked out if he was just a prince with no claim to the throne.

Zuko needs to learn to lean on his friends, the problem being they have been away and busy. He has probably exchanged correspondence and is in the process of opening up.

I see both Katara and Sokka being ambassadors, with the latter being more on the road and taking over trade. While Katara focuses on policy and diplomatic relations.

Their friendship grows stronger as they both realize their common flaws: Overworking, neglecting self care, etc.

They find comfort and support in each other and have the kind of 3 am deep conversations you have with lifelong friends.

Katara's perspective and work informs Zuko's beliefs and he goes further into deconstructing what he was taught.

A potential plot point would be Zuko becoming increasingly jaded with the nobility and apparent caste system within the fire nation. Having seen the consequences of imperialism outside and inside the nation.

I also see him wrestling with the idea of how much direct use of authority and or force can be justified in the name of removing nobles who block his more progressive ideas.

Katara would in turn become more aware of the material conditions around the fire nation. Poverty. Unemployment due to demobilization. She would feel the drive to help even if her position stipulated no obligation to do so.

Navigating politics and diplomacy might similarly have her jaded with the current system. She would continue to see the flaws and parallels between monarchies of different countries.

Together they would feel safe to have these discussions and be not-alone in these thoughts.

Somewhere along the line they start hugging more, holding hands, etc.

One of them confesses first, fearing that they might ruin things but not wanting or being able to hide it.

A tentative relationship starts and because they are already having the difficult conversations, talking about what it means to be together is a little easier.

They are not perfect and they will stumble, but thanks to their friendship and trust they will listen to each other.

In an ideal scenario I believe Zuko would work towards any partner being free of the obligation of heirs and marriage.

In all forms they fight side by side and empower each other.

I believe in this scenario:

- Katara keeps and celebrates her culture.

- Zuko grows as a person realistically.

- Mai and Azula find happiness. (With or without partners)

- Aang overcomes the trauma of the war and keeps being an advocate for peace.

- The possibilities for side plots and other pairings are still there.

In (scattered) summary:

I can see why zutara works and why it doesn't. It can be cute and sweet. (And deliciously smutty).

I headcanon both as bisexual.

You can write a serious exploration of what it means to transition from war to peace without leaving the nation in shambles. Or how Katara carries her culture everywhere and wants to share it.

I feel guilty about how positive and optimistic some of this is, while simultaneously feeling equally guilty for the dark and heavy themes for a fic I have not finished yet.

Or you can write them being awful at feelings and almost tearing each other apart. (I don't like this but it is popular.)

Katara's bloodbending is a popular theme and it is its own can of worms.

Thank you for reading!

@wingchunwaterbender @krista-kritical @ikuzeminna