#i just have a lot of feelings about the big boy in the skull mask

[secretlysimpash]

All I'm thinking about right now is treating Simon like something precious.

Just having him safe at home, having him to yourself for a while, and being able to shower him in the love and affection that he thought he lost the right to experience years ago.

At first, he probably didn't know what to think of it, just straight up pushing you away or telling you to stop, fearing you may have some ulterior motives..But after you've been together for a while, he begins to realize that you are safe, that you are his home and the one he's allowed to have absolutely no walls or masks with.

So now, he welcomes and even expects you to kiss his face all over, loves the way you holds his hands gently as you pull him into the living room.

He looks forward to sitting on the couch, where you let him put his weight onto you so you can cradle his head against your neck with one hand while the other gently rubs his back. Sometimes it starts with him venting or in a bad state, but always ends with him feeling safe.

Simon finds solace in your voice and your words, allowing his eyes to close as you tell him that he's okay, that you're glad he's home, and that you'll never leave him alone.

And if he ever has doubts that you're putting on an act, or lying...All he needs to do is catch a glimpse at the way you look at him (when you think he's not looking)...That look of adoration that melts into a goofy, love-struck grin when he finally looks your way.

Honestly, he didn't know what to do with your affection at first. Wary of how you never seemed to give up on him, but all he knows now is that he can't imagine life without it.

And sure, maybe Price and the other notice how almost excited he is to go home after a mission (Price could've sworn that he had a much different attitude bout going home to an "empty little flat" a couple years ago), but that's fine (even if they are getting curious, especially Soap).

All he knows is that he's going home to someone who only knows him as Simon Riley, the man who's getting doted on and cherished, practically worshiped by the one who loves him more than anything.

Going home to the one who sees him as man they want to hold, sleep beside, dance in the kitchen with, and laugh at stupid moves with late at night.

Just thinking about Simon Riley knowing he is safe and loved.

[sleepingdayaway]

just read your majoras mask post and i wish i could hug young link so bad😭 I then thought of what would happen if its LU and reader stumbles upon Time, who hasn't seen them since Majoras Mask. The reunion would either be devastating or really cute since hes old and seeing a parental(ish) figure again😭🩷

UR SO BIG BRAIN ANON. FUCK, I CAN NEVER MAKE HIM HAPPY

making a big strong leader be sad and cry for his parental figure fuels me with so much joy

It's a quiet night for the Chain as they all chatted amongst each other while setting up camp for the night. Wild is preparing a a fire, so he could make plans for dinner with Warriors helping him by going through the recipes that he saved on his slate. Wind, Legend and Hyrule are sitting together and speaking about their homes; Wind mostly talking about how he misses his younger sister and his grandma.

Twilight has left to keep an survey the surrounding area. Separate from the group so he could transform into his wolf form without the others knowing. Sky and Four are besides the cook and captain as they had a soft conversation about Sky's sword during his time in the Knight Academy, and when he was forging the Goddess Blade/Master Sword.

Meanwhile Time is sitting a bit farther away; not too far that he couldn't hear them but he's able to have his own space. He’s been feeling heavy these days as it takes a mental toll on him. Attempting to be the voice of reason isn’t easy even though he is in a body that now matches his mind.

Time doesn’t understand the heaviness that he has been feeling as their journey continues; the years long exhaustion seeping into his bones as he watches the rest interact with each other. A small nagging in his skull refuses to allow him a moment of relief. Urging him to get up and not stay idle which causes the older man to let out a sigh.

Which turned out to be a good idea when two sets of footsteps could be heard approaching the camp. Time turned to look at where the noise was approaching which in turned caused the rest of the hero’s to tense up slightly.

If old man Time notices something first, the others will follow suit. Instead of the noise of monsters which most of them can recognize; it was instead the voice of Twilight with a familiar one in tow. Everyone relaxed when they realized it was the Rancher, but were curious on who was he bringing. It was unusual for him to bring a civilian into their camp.

Except as soon as they were in view it made sense. The civilian was roughed up and had scratches and scrapes all over their body as if they had been running away from something. Although they acted as if they were fine, smiling and making exaggerated gestures for Twilight. A slight distraction one as would a parent would to distract a child from something

It seemed to work as Twilight was fully engaged in conversation and only broke out of it when Hyrule reacted first and approached them. They smile at Hyrule and began introducing themselves as the boy checks up on the civilian, upon seeing the injuries on them.

That voice. Time’s ear gave a slight twitch upon hearing them speak, as a sudden coldness enveloped his body. He knows that voice. Holy shit, Time fucking recognized who is speaking to Hyrule and Twilight.

Time needs to step away; as he felt his own body began to tremble at the memories of his past adventures with them. He can’t show weakness in front of the others. If he starts acting up then everyone will become suspicious of them even though they have done no wrong.

Quickly he gets up before approaching Warriors and muttered some excuse about him needing to take a walk. Warriors, who understands that Time had a lot on his plate recently, agreed and reassured that he and Twilight will keep watch over everyone.

In an instant, Time is walking away from the group as he felt someone’s gaze on his back.

The sun is gone by the time he returns to the camp.

Time curses himself for leaving for so long. He wasn’t supposed to be gone for a long time; he merely needed time to recollect his thoughts and get his act together before approaching them again.

The scarred man lets out as sigh once he catches sight of the campfire. His body slowly begins to relax once he spots the rolled out bedrolls that are occupied by the rest of the group.

As he nears closer he counts the ones who a sleeping, noticing that the only one that isn’t asleep is Wild. Said man is by the fire and already staring at the older hero and quietly goes up to him, “Time, you’re back.” He states softly, trying not the wake the others from their sleep.

Time nods and scans the younger man for anything that could be bothering him, “Yes, sorry for being gone until nightfall, it wasn’t my intention I just-“

“Needed to clear your head?” Wild interrupts with a small smile of understanding. In which Time lets out a small sigh before humming in agreement.

“Is everything alright? How was….the civilian that the Ranch hand brought?” He asked.

As if barely remembering about them Wild slightly shuffled on his feet, “They’re fine! It’s just that……”

The Hero of Time raises a brow at him, “Did something happened while I was gone?” He questioned as he placed his hands on his hips.

“No! Nothing bad happened it’s just, they were determined to repay us by keeping watch and letting us all rest,” Wild responds before turning away and looks behind him; Time follows his gaze. Sitting away from them on a log near the edge of camp is them; staring out into the woods and appears to be keeping watch as Wild says.

”Huh….. I would’ve assumed that one of you would be weary of letting a stranger be in charge of your safety.” Wild lets out a slight wince at his words, and a hand comes up behind his neck as he remembers what happened a few hours prior.

“You’re not wrong, in fact the Veteran was the first one to express his distaste at the idea who was then backed up by Wars.”

Wild explains how after the two voiced their opinions and how they’re greatful at the thought, but they didn’t trust them. The civilian nodded in understanding before they began interacting with the rest. Somehow as the sun was begun to set and everyone ate their meals; did they all began to grow tired as their journey from today hit them unusually hard.

Warriors pulled Wild to the side and explained how Time was still out there and how they might need to go search from him, but that was when the Civilian spoke up. Saying how they’re sure that he’ll arrive soon and to soothe their worries they’ll stay up to wait for his return.

Reluctantly, Warriors agreed as his exhaustion doubled before crawling into his bedroll and promptly passing out. Leaving Wild and them awake as Wild fights off sleep; keeping them company as they waited for Time to return.

“I know it’s ridiculous for a group of hero’s to lower their guard to someone unfamiliar, but for some reason…. I feel as if…��”

“As if you know them from somewhere?” Said Time gently, now understanding where he was coming from. Wild nodded as he looked down, finally realizing how tired he was.

Time put his hands on Wild’s shoulders and gave them a comforting squeeze, “I’m here now, go rest.” He says softly with a slight tone of appreciation, “Thank you, for waiting Wild.”

The young man nodded before walking limply to his own bedroll and collapsing as well.

He watched Wild fall asleep completely as an attempt to delay the inevitable, but Time knew it was futile and he knew that they would still be waiting. After a few moments passed did he begin to walk over to the edge of camp where they sat.

He sat down next to them without thinking twice, but didn’t look at their face. He had a feeling that string holding himself together would snap if he looked at them.

But it would be broken anyway since they made the first move.

“I’m sorry for leaving without goodbye.”

Time tenses before dropping his face into his hands, letting out a silent sob, in an attempt to hide himself from view.

A gentle hand lands in his hair as it begins to comb through it, and once more he’s pulled back into his memories during his journey through Termina. Of the same hand running through his hair in the aftermath of a battle that took a toll on him.

Losing all strength that is holding himself together; Time collapses on himself and curls up to them. Losing all rationality and just wants to be held by them again as he clings on their clothes.

“It’s okay, I’m here now Link.”

Their voice calls out to Time as their other arm wraps around his back to hold him closer. As he cries to himself as the memories of Termina returns full force, the amount of times he failed the people of the town. The moments where he messed up and had to start over again-

He failed to save that girl’s father.

He failed to reunite Kafei and Anju.

He failed to protect Romani from those monsters.

He failed-

Humming interrupts his train of thought as he opens his eyes in shock. The feeling of a hand rubbing his back and another in his hair brings him back to them, as he leans his head on their chest.

Relaxing into their hold as he listens to their heartbeat and to their humming of a familiar song.

Finally.

Someone else sings for his sorrows to heal.

[rainbowchaox]

Pissa Headcanon Post:

1) Philza likes to hug Missa with his wings a lot. He is always sorta hovering next to Missa. Missa is cold? Wing. Missa is hot? Wing. Missa is happy? Wing. Missa is sad? Wing. Missa despite this doesn’t realize this is unusual for a avian to be so affectionate. I like to imagine Missa just think this is normal for avians to act like this.

2) Philza is protective of their shared home because in his avian brain that’s their nest. Which is why he is so reluctant to let people access and why he always reminds people it’s “Phil and Missa”. Because it’s theirs. Not his. Missa doesn’t realize this is big. Someone needs to slap his brain with a book about avian courting rituals. Philza has started courting Missa from practically day 1. Missa doesn’t know this. Again someone help him.

3) Missa has been gifted Phil’s feathers and the fact that avians only gift feathers to someone they are courting. Philza would even braid the feathers into Missa hair. As a subtle way to say back off.

4) Missa is taller than Phil. Despite this Phil will pick up Missa easily. I imagine soon into their government assigned marriage Phil realized it’s the best course of option to do to get Missa out of sticky situations. Phil will also perch on his shoulder when he really decides to be playful.

5) Because of Avian instincts Philza really want to preen Missa. But obviously he doesn’t has wings. So instead he tends to play with his hair a lot. And take out whatever debris Missa managed to get in it. He will literally take out like twigs out of Missa hair in front of people once it started bothering him.

6) Missa had to learn quickly how to preen Phil’s wings. And high-key he is the best at preening on the island. Even more so than other Avians. Because boy was high-key must be the best for his husband. Especially considering Phil tends to get his wings dirty easily from all the exploring and adventuring.

7) Like most Avians if you touch his wings randomly Phil would probably attempt some sort of violence. The only people that have unlimited wing access without asking is literally his family and Missa. Again Missa would not realize how big a deal this is. Missa can fully touch Phil’s wings anytime. And knowing Missa would take advantage because softness.

8) Phil avian side immediately found Missa attractive because he was a good singer (a common way for avians to court). Phil is abyssal at singing so the common way he courted is with so much gifts and acts of service.

9) The reason Phil stopped sleeping in the double bed Missa and him shared is because Missa scent left and that made him low key depressed. The main reason behind once Missa came back Philza and him had a massive cuddle.

10) I like to imagine once Missa came back Philza was finally free of most of his stress. His wings not a mess. No eye-bags. Skin clear. Smiling at everything and nothing. And the only thing that happened was Missa coming back. And others that never met Missa and Philza before Missa went away are kinda scared. Because Philza the angel of death himself is all soft and happy. Not dying of stress 24/7.

11) It’s my personal belief that Avians are private but very affectionate. So Philza is actually very affectionate towards Missa. Missa meanwhile can’t handle Philza complimenting him and saying good things about him. Missa is so weak for verbal affection. Please somebody give the poor guy some confidence.

12) Philza is one of the few people that Missa feels safe enough around to take off his skull mask. Most of the island has never seen Missa without his mask.

[eowynstwin]

I love how you write and view COD in general, so let’s hear some Ghost hcs

Slightly NSFW.

He’s got more tattoos—his legs have a lot, and he’s got a back piece he’s working on. They’re all black and white, he doesn’t like color tattoos.

On that note though, he learned how to stick and poke as a teenager, and now as an adult he’s actually very good at it. He touches up his own tattoos, and if you’re one of his people he’ll give you any kind of ink you like, as long as you don’t ask for anything other than black ink lol

On the topic of body mods, his dick is pierced. He’s got a Jacob’s ladder. He got it a little before he was recruited into the 141—it was kind of an exercise in seeing if the pain would make him feel anything. It didn’t. (He discovered its popularity in the bedroom later.)

He owns like ten of the same black shirt and jeans. This man is NOT fashion-forward. But you will never catch him in cargo shorts. Even he isn’t that uncool. It turns out he dresses well—if always casually—just by virtue of not making his clothing choices complicated.

So, it’s almost certain he made his skull plate mask, right? Which means he’s got some familiarity with needle and thread. I think Ghost, more than once, has popped a seam in his pants or his shirt, because he’s a BIG boy. And he was raised in poverty, so no fucking way is he going to just buy new ones. So he mends his own clothes. His stitches are rarely pretty, but they’re always solid.

He’s actually a big fix-it guy overall. It’s a byproduct of growing up poor—you don’t waste money on something new if the old thing just needs a part replaced. If something stops working, he takes it apart, figures out what’s wrong, and puts it back together. He’s very efficient about it too—those projects take a day at most. He hates a mess.

As a result, if you’ve been fucking him on the regular (because remember, Ghost doesn’t date), he starts making note of little projects he could get into at your place. Cracks in the wall he could spackle. A door that scrapes at the jamb when you close it that he could rebalance. A coffee maker that takes forever to brew that he could clean out. If you let him do any of these projects, you’re never getting rid of him. (And with the Jacob’s ladder why would you honestly want to?)

I think the psychological functions of these projects are an exercise in trying to fix something to make up for what he can no longer fix. He failed a lot of people—primarily his family. Maybe if he can make your car stop making weird noises when it turns, he’s redeemed a tiny cut of the massive debt he owes to the dead. He does not think like this, I can’t stress enough. It is not a conscious process. But it doesn’t change the tiny relief he feels at making a broken thing work again.

If you ever point out that making broken things work again is kind of exactly the function of the Ghost persona, he’ll disappear for several months.

But he’ll come back. You’ll have to yank an apology out of his teeth, but you can get one out of him if you’re honest enough about how fucking horrible you felt when he left without a word. He felt horrible when he was gone, too. You just scared him, with how you cut to the very crux of who and why he is. That kind of vulnerability is a horror Ghost doesn’t know how to face.

But he stays with you for a long while, longer than he ever has, after he comes back.

[random-thot-generator]

'S'

Ghost x Fem Reader

Summary: Your mystery lover 'S' has finally returned and is on his way over. You prepare for his arrival, ready to meet his every need, gladly catering to each of his unique desires.

Tags/Warnings: Explicit language, swearing, explicit sexual content, light voyeurism, mutual masturbation, PiV sex, slight breeding kink if you squint, dirty talk as foreplay, lil bit of edging - Ghost likes to edge himself to save it all up for reader, mention of oral sex- male and female receiving, light Dom/sub dynamic- Ghost likes it a certain way & reader submits to his every whim, allusions to an innocence kink, no Y/N

(A/N: After reading the NSFW Ghost HCs one of mutuals posted, I mentioned maybe writing a fic for them, so this is it. It's debauched, little to no plot, just a filthy one-shot to weave all her HCs together. Lots of dirty talk. Sorry, not sorry. Enjoy the smut.

You can check out Rhea's HCs here .

@luminousbeings-crudematter I didn't forget. This one's for you, sweets.

Word Count: 3540

You're putting away groceries when your cell phone dings an alert. You scoff, leaving the fridge door standing open, and turn back to the counter with a bag of grapefruit dangling from your hand, sliding the phone closer to read the screen.

'S sent you a message.'

A tingle starts at the base of your skull that tightens your scalp and lifts the hairs at the nape of your neck. You huff out a shaky breath and open the app with a trembling finger to read his text.

[S]: omw. eta 30m. b ready

You inhale slow and deep. He's back. He's home. He's on his way. He'll be there in thirty minutes… and he wants you to be ready to greet him.

You scramble to get the rest of the groceries put away and hurry to your bedroom, stripping clothes as you go. A quick shower, like the fastest you've ever taken, and then you're in your closet, looking for that one white sundress with the tiny orange and yellow flowers in the print. It's his favorite. He's never said it, but he always takes his time removing it, toying with the straps, rubbing the eyelet trim between his fingers.

You utter a quiet, "Yes!" when you find it.

Skip the bra. The straps don't look right with the dress anyway, but the panties…

Which pair should you choose?

You hold up thongs and high-waist French cuts and boy shorts in multiple colors and textures. No. No. No… but then you smile when you pull out a pair of white cotton bikini panties with the tiniest pink satin rose sewed onto the stretch-lace waistline. He loves the innocent look, the virginal white. You slide them on and then shimmy the dress over your head, contorting your arms to work the zipper up the back.

You feel a little frantic, knowing he is just minutes away.

Now what? you ask yourself, and somehow your brain supplies the answer.

The lotion. God, how could you forget the lotion?

He likes to watch you put on lotion; says he loves how it makes your skin feel like silk. You grab the bottle from the bathroom and set it on your little vanity table, then arrange yourself on its cushioned stool just so. You check the time on your cell, then put it on silent and wait, heart pounding in your chest.

'S' has his preferences, some run-of-the-mill, others more unique in taste. The mask he always wears took a little getting used to, and his refusal to share his name. He could have lied, given you a false name, but he didn't. He only gave you an initial - 'S', but you are confident it actually is his real initial. Say what you want about the strangeness of your relationship, but at least it's honest, which is more than most can say about their own relationships.

You hear the muffled jangle of keys and the squeak of hinges as your front door opens, then silence. For such a big man, he moves about with such eerily quiet steps, but you can sense his presence in the other room. He'll take off his boots and leave them by the door before he joins you. He never walks around your flat with shoes on; he thinks it's disrespectful to track up your floors. You cross your legs when you hear the creak of a floorboard and begin rubbing lotion into your calf.

You can feel when he stops at your door to stare. The jamb gives a soft pop when he leans a shoulder against it, but you don't look up, giving him time to watch as long as he wants. Eventually, there's a sigh from the doorway and you finally glance up at him, a little smile on your face. "Hey."

His mahogany eyes are half-lidded, lazy, but their gaze is avid as they follow the motion of your hand. "'Ello, love. Miss me?"

The rough gravel of his voice in that familiar Manc accent settles along your spine, sinks into the marrow of your bones, both a thrill and a comfort to hear. You hum at the sound, smile widening. "Always."

He watches you a moment longer then comes to sit on the bed across from you, eyes still locked on the hand smoothing lotion over your skin. "Just get out of the shower?"

"Mm-hm." You tug the hem of the skirt up higher to reach your thigh. A tingle of anticipation sparks to life deep in your core and radiates a warmth through your pelvis.

He'll start talking now, you think, telling you everything he thought about while he was away.

He pulls the hem of his shirt out of his pants, begins to undo the buttons down the front, his movements casual, leisurely. He's in no hurry. "Missed the smell of that shampoo ya use. Always makes my cock hard when I get a whiff of it."

…and here we go.

You try not to squirm as you recross your legs to lotion up the other one. "Yeah?" you murmur, keeping your voice low and soft. "The herbal one with lemongrass?"

"Yeah. Tha's the one." He breathes out a heavy breath and reaches down to adjust the bulge in his pants, giving it a little squeeze before releasing it. "Like t'think about it when I fuck my fist in the shower."

You feel that heady drop of arousal in your lower belly as you let a little smirk play around your lips. "Is that all you think about while you're fucking your hand?" you goad.

He huffs out a grating chuckle. "'Course it's not, love. It gets me goin', but I usually think about yer cunt to get off. How wet ya get for me. How tight ya squeeze me when I fuck ya good an' deep. What ya feel like when ya cum. The thought of it's got me leakin' right now." He reaches down to grip himself, eyes meeting yours. "Want t'see?"

You peer at him through lowered lashes, biting your lip to hide your coy grin. "Yeah. I'd like that."

He removes his shirt, tosses it to the foot of the bed, then reaches for his belt. He's patient, methodical as he strips it from the loops and lays it aside, then undoes his pants. He pulls his cock out over his underwear, cupping his balls in one hand while he strokes his length with the other. He swipes his thumb over the tip, gathers the precum. "See how much I've missed ya?" He holds it up for you to see. "Want a taste, sweetheart?"

You nod, leaning forward, stretching your torso out to meet him. He rubs his thumb over your parted lips before slipping it between them, letting you suck and tongue at his thumb before pulling it back, dragging it down your bottom lip. "Thought about this mouth, too," he murmurs, his deep rumble sinful and low. "I almost like fuckin' it as much as yer sweet lil cunt. Like how ya use yer tongue on me, how ya swallow 'round my cock. Feels so fuckin' good, makes my balls draw up so bloody tight. Nothin' in the world like it."

You preen at the praise and your channel clenches, slick oozing into the already damp cotton of your panties. You love this game, but it's torture, listening to him talk about all the things he imagines you doing to him, all the things he wants to do to you. It's a kind of foreplay you've never experienced with anyone else, at least not to the extent that he takes it.

Sure, you've been with 'talkers' in bed before, but their words were always said in the heat of the moment, gasped out and desperate. He does all his talking before the main event, his words even and deliberate, building up the anticipation as he describes his debauched thoughts in detail. It leaves you dripping before he ever touches you.

"Had a dream about ya," he says, giving his cock a languid stroke. "You were on the bed, arse up in the air, and I'm just poundin' ya, an' yer makin' those fuckin' noises that make my gut twist. I swear I could feel how wet ya were, how it felt slidin' in an' out of ya. Woke up to find I'd made a bloody mess o' m'self," he laughed, short and husky. "Bet ya like that, don't ya, lovie? Do ya like that ya make me cum in my sleep like some horny fuckin' kid?"

You smirk at him, nod. "Yeah. I do." You can't take your eyes off his stroking hand, how it looks wrapped around his thick length. You rub your thighs together for a little friction. Your clit is throbbing so hard right now.

He grunts. "'S my fault. Gave it a wank before I fell asleep, ya know, just a few tugs while I was thinkin' 'bout ya. Pissed me off, losin' my load that close to comin' home. Ya know I like to save it all up for ya, give it to ya proper, fill up that sweet lil cunny of yers."

You let your knees fall apart, feel the skirt drape between your thighs as you press your fingers to your clit through the cotton, too turned on to resist the urge to touch yourself. Your eyes flutter closed with a breathy sigh. You lick your lips. "I don't have that kind of strength," you confess. "If I think about you, how good you fuck me, it always makes me cum. I can't stop myself."

You hear his low groan and slit your eyes open, see the way his head is thrown back, resting his weight on one arm while he continues to stroke his cock. You want to push him, so you continue to talk, watching him.

"I think about what your tongue feels like when you lick my pussy. God... h-how good it feels when you fuck me with it or suck my clit. Love how you look with my cum on your lips, how it tastes when you kiss me." Your voice has gone high, edging into a whine.

"Fuc-kin' hell…" he breathes out. His hand torques down on the base of his cock. He's reached his limit. Anymore and his cum will be arcing through the air to splatter on the floorboards between you, and he'll be damned if he's losing another load like that, not when you're this close.

He stares at you as he grips his cock, watches your hand circling in the folds of your skirt. "C'mere, love," he rasps out. "Come stand in front of me."

You're on your feet in an instant, teetering a bit before he reaches out to steady you. He draws you closer to stand between his knees, hands skimming down from your waist and over your hips, fingers trailing along the skirt until he reaches the hem. "Want me to touch ya, love?"

You nod, swallowing down the spit that's lodged at the back of your throat. "God, please touch me," you sigh out in a rush, resting your hands on his bare shoulders to steady yourself.

His eyes crinkle and you know he's smiling beneath the cloth mask, pleased by your words, the needy way you said them. "'S alright, sweetheart. Ya know I've got ya. Spread those pretty legs for me a lil, yeah?"

You widen your stance, a shiver racking your body as he places his fingers feather-light on your calves and then glides them up beneath the hem of your dress, sliding past your knees to skim over the smooth skin of your outer thighs. He doesn't stop until he reaches your hips, thumbs caressing your hips bones through the cotton panties. He slips them underneath the elastic that circles your thighs, calloused pads pressing lightly into the meat of your mons. His thumbs meet right above your clit, and your mouth falls open as you prepare for that first touch.

It's euphoric.

The pad of one thumb grazes over the swollen nub; it's a light touch, but slow in execution. He slides his thumb over it again, up and down in a slow, steady rhythm as he increases the pressure. When he finally begins to rub circles into your clit, your knees threaten to give out and a pool of slick puddles in the crotch of your panties. "Oh, my god…"

He's watching you with rapt attention, eyes zeroed in on your face. His chest is visibly rising and falling with his heavy breaths now, his voice strained as he rumbles out, "Take yer knickers off for me, sweetheart. Do it nice an' slow."

You blink your eyes open and nod, stepping back. You hitch the skirt up and hook your thumbs into the sides of your panties. He leans back for a better view, his cock flexing against his lower abdomen when he sees you pull the white cotton down from between your thighs. You lower them slow, just like he asked, letting them go when they go past your knees.

"Look so fuckin' pretty when ya do that," he murmurs, sitting up again. He grazes a hand over the front of your skirt, voice gone to gravel when he tells you, "Hand me yer knickers and hold up that skirt, love. Want t'see that pretty lil cunny. I've missed it."

It feels so obscene to be holding up your dress for a man to stare at your naked pussy. He' still stroking his cock, your damp panties clutched in the other hand, and he's pressing them against the mask covering his nose. You can hear him taking deep breaths, filling his sinuses with your musk, low moans escaping when he exhales. Eventually, he brings his hand down, and the panties disappear into the front pocket of his jeans. You won't see those panties again, you know, so you make a mental note to buy more just like them.

"Yer so beautiful," he sighs out, pulling you closer to press his face into your stomach. He breathes you in, muttering into the folds of your skirt. "Pull up the mask, sweetheart, like I showed ya."

Your trembling hands slide from his shoulders to his neck, cool fingers curling beneath the fabric, giving him a moment to adjust to the sensation before you slowly begin to peel it up. You stop when you reach his nose, leaving the lower half of his face exposed. You feel a shiver quake through his form and he groans.

His hands slide up to knead at your breasts through your dress, rolling and pinching your nipples until they're hard and tight beneath the fabric. He slides a hand behind your back and pulls down the zipper, then hooks his fingers into the straps, dragging them down your shoulders. As soon as your breasts are exposed, he's yanking you forward, hitching your legs up around his hips as he wraps an arm around your waist. His hand comes up to cup your breast, fingers indenting the flesh as he dips his head to suck the nipple into his mouth. He moans as he rolls his tongue over it, then grunts when you grind against his cock.

He releases your nipple and grinds up into you with a filthy grunt before he captures the other nipple between his lips, eyes locked with yours as he catches the bud between his teeth and worries it. You're whimpering, pressing your chest into his face, throwing your head back with a gasping, "Hah!" as he draws in as much of your breast as he can fit into his mouth. He's ravenous with them, biting and marking, staking his claim.

You're mindlessly grinding against each other now, his cock gliding through your slick heat, making the most obscene wet sounds. You feel his hand slip from around your waist and burrow underneath your gathered skirt to grip your ass, and then you're being flipped over, landing on your back with an 'oof!' as he settles his weight against you.

He only pauses long enough to push his pants down past his hips and then he's notching the head of his cock at your pulsing entrance and pressing forward, a guttural groan vibrating through his chest as he sinks into you. He doesn't stop until the head of his cock bumps against the sensitive barrier of your cervix, and then he holds himself there, panting through gritted teeth.

You know he won't move until he'd regained some control. He'll wait til he feels the muscles in your channel relax, the spasms easing into pulsing undulations that milk at his cock. His eyes slide halfway open and lock with yours as he begins to move inside you, bracing his weight on his arms so he can hover over you, so he can watch your face as he fucks you. You know he won't speak again; he can't. It renders him as speechless as it does you, catching you both up in the heady sensation of being joined after so long.

All of his focus is on you now, intent on making you cum for him. He won't be satisfied until your clenching around him, just a shaking wet mess lying beneath him. He fucks you slow and deep, drinking in every detail of your face as your jaw goes slack and your eyes haze over. Your breathy pants morph into moans when he begins to thrust harder, snapping his hips, clapping his balls against your ass in a steady tattoo. You see his eyes roll back, his lids slide shut, but he blinks them open with a grunt, determined not to miss a moment of your pleasure. It gets him off to know he makes you feel so good.

He hits that spot that only he can find, a pleasure-pain that vibrates deep in your core and radiates out to thrum through your clit. Tears begin to swim in your eyes and thoughts fade into the background. Nothing else exists except that building pressure in the cradle of your pelvis, each thrust he delivers threatening to burst the dam holding it back. Your channel flutters, begins to spasm, and his low moan becomes a choked whine when your walls clamp down.

Your heels dig into his ass, your fingers raking down his back, and he growls through his clenched teeth. Your neck arches as you tilt your chin up to the ceiling, body tense as a wire and vibrating around him as you teeter on the very edge of orgasm. One more hard thrust sends you over, and you inhale a sobbing breath as the world melts around you.

It's a rush of bliss, a cascade of liquid heat that flows like warm, sticky honey throughout your lower body. It comes in waves that pulse in time with the throb in your clit. You can feel your cum flow over and around his cock, hear the squelch of liquid as he continues to rail into you with unhinged pleasure. With one final thrust he buries himself balls deep and cums, growling as he empties himself inside your spasming walls. He finally allows his eyes to roll shut, chin lowered to his chest as he gives a few more sloppy thrusts, wanting to push his seed deep into your pulsing core.

With your feet still hooked over the backs of his thighs, your legs quake around him as you shudder. He lowers himself to an elbow, brings his other arm back to run a soothing hand over your trembling thigh, soothing you as you ride out your orgasm. His mouth descends to cover yours, his tongue snaking out to tangle with yours in a wet, sensual kiss.

He only releases his claim on your mouth when he feels you go slack beneath him, completely spent and utterly wrecked. Wrapping his arms around you, he drags your limp form further up the bed until your head is resting on the pillows, your body sinking into the mattress. He stretches out beside you and gathers you against him, his arm around your waist pulling you snug against his side. His lips brush over your temple as he sighs, relaxed and sated for the first time in months.

"Missed you," you murmur into his chest, sliding an arm around his waist and a leg over his thigh. "Stay with me tonight?" you ask, like you always do.

"Maybe," he lies, but he holds you close, and you feel his hands grip you in remorse. If he could, he would stay. You know he would. "Jus' sleep, love. I'll be here when you wake up."

You close your eyes and pretend it's the truth.

[1autistictacticalrefrigerator]

Ppl prob have already done Childhood SoapGhost before, but Im just doing it again anyway cuz i think its wholesome 🫵😎

(might stray a but further from Ghost’s canon backstory btw)

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Simon knew Soap since childhood, they were bffs, actually. Soap would always bandage Simon after his father beat him, or feed him when he gets no food. Most importantly, Soap cared for Tommy too- always letting the two abused brothers rant- always finding ways to comfort them and make them smile. Soap could never go to Simon’s house, Simon was afraid Soap would get hit too- but regardless, Soap always offers Simon and Tommy his own house as a second home for them. He never asked for any of this to be repaid. He was a saint in Simon’s eyes.

…So it hurt more than any cut and bruise Simon has gotten from his father when Soap had to move. That night when Soap had to go Simon cried, not because he’ll miss the treatment he gets from Soap, but Soap himself. He thought he’d never see his only best friend ever again. But he was wrong.

…

Soap and Ghost meet again when they crossed paths once more in the 141. Ghost immediately recognized Soap- he never forgot him. Soap had the same hair, same everything really. Just a bigger size with a even bigger heart. Soap didn’t change much, but Simon changed too much.

Simon was Ghost now. A big scary boy in a skull mask who people think he couldn’t feel. A killing machine who offers no mercy. A man who’s relationship with Soap is back to square one.

Ghost wondered if Soap would remember him, its been fucking years. Wouldn’t be a surprise if Soap forget about him- with such a open personality it wouldn’t be hard to picture Soap with a lot of friends when he moved on from Simon. (Did he..?)

Simon never deserved Soap anyway.

Ghost tells himself that every day. Simon had lived in total darkness until Soap came to be his light, now Ghost has become that darkness to survive after Soap was gone. Ghost didn’t want to engulf Soap in that kind of suffering. He would keep Soap safe. Even if it meant keeping Soap safe from himself.

…

Walls. Barriers. Distance.

Soap broke down every one of those. Simon, who was buried deep inside of the graveyard in Ghost’s heart was climbing out.

The only thing keeping Ghost from surrendering was Simon was never ready- not ready to be in such a warm embrace once again, only to be addicted to it and lose it again. Not again- it can’t happen again. Ghost dreaded to think what he would do afterwards.

So Simon is tucked away safely and quietly in a corner. Only making brief appearances every now and then.

This is the best way. Ghost thought, This is the only way.

…

What Ghost didn’t expect was for a single conversation to change the tides immediately. A conversation about the past he never wanted to hear about again.

“Lt?” Soap had asked, “Im curious. Who was your best childhood friend?”

You. “Why ask, Johnny?”

“Because. I dunno. Im curious- if you want you can hear mine first.” Soap grins.

“Hm.” Ghost hummed thoughtfully for a minute, then he shrugs. “Sure.”

What happened next was something Ghost didn’t believe to be real. A name Ghost hadn’t heard in ages.

“His name is Simon Riley.”

What..?

What what what what whatwhatwhatwhat what?

( He he a little cliff hanger. I might leave it like this. I kinda like it. Butttt I might give it a proper ending too one day ;) )

[muchmossymess]

Okay I've been thinking more about my majoras mask boat boys au so here are some things (and cries for help)

So for those unfamiliar, majoras minecraft au (I think thats what I've been calling it??) is a relatively boat boys centric au but I want to contain other characters and such. Only problem, I dont watch that many people. So I call on the help of you lot of nerds! /aff

Oh and uh, if you don't know majoras mask, what are you doing with ur life go play it!! (or just learn a bit about it)

So we have etho as link and joel as tatl (fairy companion), grian as skull kid and jimmy as tael (also a fairy). That's about all I had confirmed back then, I have done a little thinking since then.

Mask salesman scar. You cannot tell me anything else it woks so perfectly. He keeps the masks in these sort of hidden compartments of his wheelchair, just like opens up a little door with a 'peruse my wares' look on his face.

Mumbo is the moon. No explanation needed. (I might make him someone else as well to give him a bit more of a role but like. cmon I had to)

Now in the more uncertain categories I've got postman pearl (duh, but I don't want to feel like im just shoving her to the side?), lizzie as either a great fairy (mby all of them bc why not) or zelda, bc a sheik lizzie would be great but she's not much in the story, and maybe oli (orionsound) is the zora mask, idr his name but he was weird and he was music so it feels appropriate.

Now onto a big hurdle is WHO WILL BE ANJU AND KAFEI!?!? Anju and kafei are THE love story of majoras mask, the are so cute and sad and I love them very much. I was first thinking impulse and bdubs (bc I am unoriginal and don't know many pairings, also the short bdubs jokes will never end) but then I was thinking hmm, maybe ren and martyn?, bc kafei has a cute lil canine mask and the fits ren and also he's the mayors son so like power? (can you tell I only watch like 3 people) and then martyn is there being all worried girlfriend (anju in game is not flattened to love interest dw).

I've also been thinking very baseline with a few of these but cleo as the gibdo mask man in ikana, gem as the fierce diety mask or maybe the goron mask, bdubs as romani (or epona lol), and like a ties/best/ect thing for the bombers (- etho ofc), maybe tango as cremia

Anyway so yeah because of the IMMENSE amount of characters I am asking for y'alls aid. Some other notable characters (that I know about) are: shikashi/the telescope guy, the professor, Pierre the scarecrow, the indigo-gos (especially lulu), deku princess, deku butler (and his dead son), sharp and flat, kotake and koume, kaepora gaebora/that really big fucking owl, the four giants, the rosa sisters, kamaro, guru guru, and finally, grog.

(Oh, and tingle is chat personified ;P)

[isa-ghost]

How about some qmissa hc's :D? (also hope you're ok🖤 take care of yourself!)

Dude I can't fucking wait to write more of Missa in AMFMN I'm so excited to show what I have planned for him.

Disclaimer these are gonna be very Just Missa or Pissa related since I'm a crow so I don't get to watch him interact with many other ccs the rare times he streams 😭 Forgive me /lh

Ok I've said this elsewhere but my biggest headcanon is that he's a grim reaper. It's why he's gone so often, he's off doing a very demanding job.

Second biggest Missa hc I have is that he has (currently one-sided) romantic feelings for Phil. This is kinda canon actually but the one-sided part who knows. Either way oh my god he gets the worst butterflies around Phil /pos

THESE REAPER HANDS ARE RATED E FOR EVERYONE. You piss him off and he WILL throw hands about it. Probably through tears bc he still gets scared in the face of danger but HANDS.

He 🤝🏻 Phil on self esteem issues to a certain degree. He's certainly not as bad but boy does he have moments. He's not as stubborn as Phil so he's easier to reassure though.

His skull mask is a sugar skull!! :D

When he's wearing the mask and doesn't wanna take it off but wants to show he's big mad he'll sometimes draw angry eyebrows on his mask. He's done this in front of Phil and it absolutely killed him.

Gets overwhelmed /pos being on his own with Chayanne & Tallulah. They let loose a bit bc Phil isn't around to be Oh My God Survivalist Mode about their safety so Missa gets the brunt of unhinged behavior. Lots of laughter but also screaming involved.

He's a professional at saying out of pocket suggestive shit so fast that the translator doesn't catch it.

Yeah no he's smooched Roier a few times. Before Roier was married and he got down atrocious for Phil but yeah they did.

Smth about being with Roier turns him into quadruple the gremlin he already can be. Cellbit has aptly dubbed it The Roier Effect.

If he was given a guitar and the opportunity to do so, he'd sing/perform at every major Quesadilla Island event. (He'd be lowkey terrified bc that's a bit overwhelming but Phil and others would be cheerleading him so hard he'd do it).

When he freaks out about stuff, esp around Phil, some of it is actually secretly exaggerated bc he likes that it makes Phil laugh so much.

He gives the best fucking hugs. Instant comfort. Also he's very huggable himself. Phil's pretty buff so when he hugs Missa tight enough he cracks Missa's back like bubble wrap.

The handle of his scythe has a music staff print on it :D

God DAMN can he be spiteful sometimes. It makes Phil kinda (Floshed).

[reds-skull]

BLOOD||HUNGER

[PREV PART] [AO3]

Y'know how I said I'm not gonna post every day... Okay look I'm just enjoying myself and I'm on break so I got time to write. Sue me.

This chapter is called "The Ruin". Enjoy!

Page 5 of the “Blooede Starvatfōre-dēde”, parable 2:

A blind man finds upon his path, a thing of uncertain birth, He whispers words of guilt, gait unsure around the being, A story of war falls from his lips, a tale well known, The beastly soul bows in assent, warmed only by gore, The man asks of the Beast, will you let me pass, The path clears, but a voice requests, Will you, O fallen knight, Will you let a monster trail?

The last time Soap was under a CO, the man spat in his face that he’s never going to amount to anything, not with his “attitude”. The one before it made him clean the latrines for three months, not that he stayed long enough to finish that sentence.

Ghost was… surprisingly different. His orders were clean cut, but Soap found them completely logical. And when he didn’t…

“We can’t go that way, the roundabout is full of equipment. Soldiers are constantly circling it.” Soap muttered next to Ghost. The SAS operator looked back at him. The skull mask adorning his face was cracked from untold battles long past, the sharp edges catching the low neon light from a nearby street sign.

Soap is sure if he saw that jumping at him from the shadows, he would scream like a wee girl. As it stands, the mask only makes him think of shirts edgy teenage boys would find on a sale at TK Maxx.

“How do you know?” the masked man questions.

Soap pulls a small bag from the rucksack he nabbed two days earlier, “managed to swipe some black powder from there when they weren’t lookin’.”

Ghost hums, “know how to use it?”

“Was a demolition expert, before…” Soap trails off, shoving the bag back into the side pocket, “we can go through the southern side, near the church. Think they’ve already combed that area.”

“Copy, lead the way Sergeant.”

Soap takes them through the winding alleys, hearing nothing behind, but knowing Ghost follows. For a man his size, he’s unnervingly dead silent.

“Where was yer exfil point set?” he starts. They would need to double time it, if it was back north…

Ghost is cryptid with his answers, as always, “we’ll have to set a new one.”

Soap frowns. “So our goal is just to put distance between us an’ the hostiles?”

“Affirmative. You got intel on their location?”

They enter an abandoned grocery store (as all stores in this area are), and Soap makes a detour at the cleaning aisle, looking for bleach and other solutions he could use for crafting. “I was ‘ere two days ago, dinnea where they are now…” he grins brightly when he finds a nice big bottle of bleach. With the vinegar he already has, he could create a good amount of chlorine gas. Pour it into a bottle and chuck it at hostiles, and they got a distraction should they need it.

“Stay focused, then.” Ghost murmurs, snapping Soap out of thought. He’s not used to having someone next to him, even before everything went to shit…

The church comes into view when they exit the store. Ghost stops to stare at it, and Soap takes the moment to inspect the Lieutenant further. Black gear over black clothes, no markings of country, unit, even blood type. Soap feels like there’s a lot more about this botched mission that Ghost isn’t telling him.

Not that the spooky bastard tells him much of anything.

“Could use the tower to scope the area. I see a line up there we can zip line down from.” Ghost eventually rumbles. 

“Sounds good, LT.” Soap responds, catching his slip belatedly. Internally, he muses, ‘ye can take the man out of the military…’

Ghost’s head snaps around to glare at him, and Soap can see his mouth open under the balaclava, before he turns around to stomp to the church tower, leaving Soap to jog to catch up.

The church looks ransacked, in a way that makes Soap’s gut churn. He’s not religious, not since he enlisted, but the way the soldiers destroyed everything without disregard…

It’s a view that haunts him throughout the city. How they don’t care that anyone lived here before.

Children laughed, babes were born, old men reminisced over long gone memories, girls played together. People lived and died here, this was their world.

And the Hunter’s soldiers crushed it all under their boot, spat on the graves of their ancestors and severed the ties.

Soap feels the anger building within him once more. His fuel for the firepower he throws at the hostiles. At first, he wanted to know why more than anything. But it doesn’t matter anymore.

Nothing can justify this.

He stares at Ghost’s wide back as they climb up the stairs to the tower, wondering what the operator thinks of all this. If he too feels his heart clench at the thoughts of senseless violence. Or if he doesn’t care, if the mission is the one and only important thing on his mind.

Soap wonders if there’s anything under that mask at all.

He asks himself, if there’s anything left behind his.

They reach the top, the city sprawling beneath them. The little lights blend together, shining between the dark buildings. Would’ve been a nice view.

Would have, if they didn’t spot the trucks rolling to a stop in front of the church.

Ghost and Soap share a brief look, and instantly he moves to climb out of the window to jump to the zip line, only to be stopped by the Brit.

“What are ye waitin’ for?! We need to go!” he almost yells.

Ghost yanks him back in, the sheer power knocking Soap into the wall. Fuckin’ hell, he hits like a beast.

“If we zip line now, they’ll shoot us down. We need to get through the ground floor.” he growls, turning away and starting to run down the stairs. Soap rolls his shoulders and runs after him, muttering a few curses under his breath.

Soap catches up to him, yelling, “there must be a back exit we can use-!”

Ghost stills on one of the last steps, shushing him. They both strain their ears, hearing far-off steps growing closer, and closer, and closer-

Soap shucks his rucksack off, taking out the bleach and vinegar, quickly pouring them into an empty beer bottle, “the fuck are you doing?” Ghost yells above him, crouching to hide behind the banister when the front doors are kicked open.

Soap ignores him, driving a piece of cloth down to stop the gas from leaking, and shoves it into Ghost’s hand as he makes another one, “throw this right before we go, they won’t be able to breathe right for days.”

Soldiers start spreading through the ruined church, Ghost testing the weight in his hand, “on my count.”

Soap nods, finishing up his bottle.

“One, two…”

One of the soldiers spots them, and Soap stops breathing.

“Three!”

They throw the bottles, the liquid within them splashing as they arc across the church. His bottle hits the soldier that saw them square in the face, and he instantly starts coughing and clawing at his eyes.

The gas isn’t visible to the naked eye, but Soap can track its spread by the way all soldiers start coughing. He and Ghost push off to run up the stairs, but as Soap casts a glance back, he sees some of them equipping a gas mask.

Why the fuck were they prepared for chemical weapons in a civilian city?!

“Ghost!” he shouts, slinging his rifle off his shoulder, “they have gas masks!”

He hears the man curse, “keep running!”

Not sooner after, bullets begin to ricochet around the spiral staircase. Soap swings around to shoot a couple of them, and as Ghost does the same, he notices his shots don’t land as they should.

He glances back at the Lieutenant, watching him rub roughly at his left arm. Right… Ghost did say he was broken. Soap didn’t realize how bad it was. 

A few seconds later, he realizes Ghost threw the bottle with his left hand, landing it perfectly between the soldiers.

With no time to maul it over, he pushes onwards.

Ghost is still grasping at his arm when they reach the window, and Soap can’t help but ask, “are ye gonna be able to zip dow-”

Ghost’s tone lowers dangerously, nailing him with a death glare, “I am not weak, Sergeant.”

He’s not sure who’s cornering who here. Ghost takes his eyes off him a second later, tugging on the line before asking, “got anything we can use?”

Soap continues shooting down the enemies pushing up the stairs, “check my pack!”

He feels Ghost rummaging through his rucksack, and it almost distracts him from the hails of bullets around them.

It’s… odd. How he doesn’t even know the man’s face, but he can trust him with his back.

Ghost zips the pack back up. From the corner of his eye, Soap can see two metal clothing hangers he picked up in one of his searches for a thicker jacket. In his other hand is his little project he used most of the black powder on.

He lifts it questioningly, and Soap answers while shooting, “a wee gift I made. It’ll trigger when someone steps on it.”

“How big’s the explosion?”

Soap smirks, “big enough.”

He can almost feel Ghost’s eye roll from his silence, and he would’ve chuckled if soldiers didn’t start coming closer.

“Ye ready to jump?” he yells.

Ghost hands him a hanger, dropping the charges on the last stair step. Soap watched him flex his left arm one last time, before swinging the hanger over the line, and jumping off.

Soap’s heart drops for a moment when the operator sways wildly, part afraid for him, but mostly for himself.

The hostiles at his feet don’t care either way, so Soap braces himself and jumps off as well. The way down is bumpy, rattling, and fuckin’ fast. Soap lets go of the hanger right before the end, rolling off on the rooftop, and stopping.

He hears his “gift” go off, and the sound is so beautifully familiar, it sends a pang of nostalgia through him.

Ghost is already making his way down, seeking to hide between concrete buildings. Soap hastily catches up.

“That was a wild one, wasn’t it, LT?” he says, a little out of breath.

That breath gets completely knocked out of him when Ghost slams him to the nearest wall. His eyes are obscured by shadows, leaving only two black holes when he leans down to growl in his ear.

“Don’t fuckin’ call me that. I am not your LT, not your CO, we are strangers. We get outta here, and you can go back to your civvy little life. Understood?”

Soap breathes out harshly, grinding his teeth. “Like I have a fuckin’ life-”

Ghost pulls back just to slam him harder, “do you fucking understand, Sergeant?”

He stares at the black voids, voice clear and flat, “yes sir.”

The Lieutenant finally pushes off, and Soap lingers for a moment. He wants to be angry, he wants to snarl and bite and talk back, like he used to when his past COs were yelling at him.

But Ghost is right. After this little “adventure”, Soap will have to go back to his life. To an empty apartment, which he has probably already been evicted from. To searching a job, only to find nothing truly worthwhile. To an airsoft field, a fuckin’ mockery of what he lost.

To a monotonous, repetitive, grey cycle, where John loses his mind just a little more every day.

Ghost is just telling him the truth.

Soap trails back behind Ghost, the man not reacting to his presence. He looks so much larger than him like this, blocking what little light is around them, casting a long shadow over Soap. 

He tried not to think of “what could have been” in the past year. But it’s so hard, when it’s literally within reach.

Could he have been like Ghost? This imposing, unrelenting soldier, stronger than anyone he’s ever fought. So powerful, he escaped a whole military worth of hostile soldiers?

There may be nothing behind Ghost’s mask, but there’s someone behind Soap’s. Someone weak, lost, and repulsive.

And Soap isn’t sure what’s worse.

They’ve walked in silence for the last hour or so, Soap lost in the tar pit of his own mind. Some part of him, hysteric and deranged as it is, doesn’t want this to be over. It disgusts him.

Ghost’s arm has been twitching minutely for a few minutes now. It distracted Soap from spiraling for a bit, wondering what exactly is wrong with him. He doesn’t see any rips in the fabric around the area, so it’s not a stab or gunshot wound. He thought about blunt force trauma, but that wouldn’t act up every once in a while like this. An old injury would, but if it’s bad enough Ghost can’t even shoot straight, no one in their right mind would send him on the field.

Soap exhales, his stomach knotting in warning. They didn’t stop moving since they encountered each other, so they didn’t really eat. Which Soap just remembered, and now can’t ignore.

He considers it for a moment before piping up, “ye hungry?”

Ghost pauses in front of him, slowly turning to stare at him. “You got food?”

Soap nods, pulling a few oranges from his bag. He almost hands one to Ghost before remembering his arm, and sets about to peel them both. Ghost watches him silently, as a sweet aroma fills the small back way. 

Soap gives him the first peeled orange, busying himself with the other while Ghost turns around to eat it. When Soap takes the first bite, a sour taste bursts on his palate. Yet as he chews, it turns sweet, and he closes his eyes for a moment, savoring it.

Ghost has turned back to face him when he opens his eyes again, a look Soap can’t place in his eyes. It makes him hurry and gulp down the rest of the fruit, and he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

He starts walking, but this time Ghost walks beside him, his eyes still not straying from Soap.

Ghost’s eyes are a nice, rich brown, he notices for the first time.

[blackjackkent]

By far the most annoying thing about the battle with the Avatar of Myrkul is this motherfucker:

Fundamentally what this means is that anyone near the big boy cannot get healed, which is a problem given that Rakha has the constitution, robustness, and mental stability of a single sheet of tissue paper.

Nevertheless we persist.

MVP status for this fight goes to Lae'zel, who landed a disarming attack on the first strike of the battle and knocked Myrkul's giant-ass scythe out of its hands, then action surged four attacks on it and dazed it with a pommel strike.

Aylin continues to eat shit repeatedly every time I do this fight, which I continue to blame on her having been a century out of practice, bc she always does a lot better in Act 3. :P

In the end, Rakha gets the final blow with a barrage of magic missiles that smash in the avatar's skull mask and send a shower of bone splinters raining down around them.

-----

The monstrous form fades. Ketheric collapses at Rakha's feet, a man again, mortal. His blood soaks him from head to foot, drips out in gory spatters on the rock.

The beast screams with glee in Rakha's head, watching him die. You mocked me, but you die like all the others, whimpering, pitiful. Who is the mad dog now?

"Impossible," he wheezes. "Death cannot take me... I am its master..."

He struggles to his knees, his eyes lifting again towards the cavern's ceiling. "My Lord! Hear me!"

Silence, but for the low slap of water against the rock around them. His shoulders slump. Blood drops through his beard, along the ridges of his armor.

"Nothing..." he whispers. "I am forsaken."

She steps forward, grips the front of his armor, gives a short, sharp jerk. "Answer me before you die, Chosen of Myrkul," she growls. "Tell me what I need to know. Who am I?"(*)

His eyes drift out of focus past her shoulder. "You... have no idea what you've done..." he whispers weakly.

"WHO AM I?!" she bellows, releasing him with a jerk. He nearly topples over, all the strength gone from his body. Light begins to pour from his eyes, his mouth.

"Isobel..." he whispers, and she watches and feels the deep shuddering pleasure of the beast as the life flows out of his body.

His corpse collapses in a heap at her feet.

Silence.

Rakha's head aches. She stares down at Ketheric's body. This has been her only goal for so long, almost since the crash, almost as long as she can remember, and now it is finished. She feels empty, drained - she waits for the feeling of fulfillment and it doesn't come.

What do I do now?

Before she can muster the energy to speak, a pale white glow streaks down from above them, an avenging angel homing in on the broken body before them.

"THE VILLAIN IS DEAD!"

The Nightsong. Aylin. She slams her boot into Ketheric's head and Rakha watches as his skull explodes, brain matter spattering in all directions, coated in black, corrupted blood.

"THE WRETCH!" she howls. "TOGETHER WE HAVE CRUSHED HIM, BODY AND BRAIN!"

Rakha watches, fascinated. Aylin's eyes are alight with her goddess's magic. Her movements are jerky and frantic, desperate. She pounds her boot again and again into Ketheric's head, flattening it into the ground, into a pile of shapeless meat.

She is just as majestic in this moment as she was in her flight out of the Shadowfell - but Rakha sees beneath that facade of light. Underneath is a river of rage, the fury of the prisoner released after a century of torment. Vengeance. Animal destruction.

This is what Rakha looks like when the beast overtakes her, reflected in the form of this creature of ostensible good. It is surreal to see it in another.

Eventually Aylin calms. Her eyes lift; the light has faded from them. Rakha recognizes that look on her face, too - the weary acknowledgement of her own violence, its mindlessness, its ultimate pointlessness.

"Now," the aasimar says softly. "Now we pick our way toward our fates... unleashed."

Rakha doesn't answer. What is my fate? she thinks bitterly. A lost animal, doomed to stagger forward forever, hoping only to sink her teeth into the 'right' prey.

To her astonishment, Aylin straightens and inclines her head with a sudden air of respect. "You have my sword - my fealty."

Fealty. Rakha blinks, bewildered. Why?

She draws a slow breath and lets it out. Because there is more ahead. Ketheric is dead, but the Absolutists still live. The tadpole still sits in her head. Her vengeance isn't complete.

And she realizes she is afraid. She is beginning to learn that there is nothing good for her in the memories that are lost to her - and also that following the trail of the cult will only lead her to more glimpses of whatever dark path she once walked. She will have no rest from the beast, from the war inside her head, because the path that lies ahead will be as soaked in blood as the path behind.

But the cult marches on the city. Rakha has never seen it - but Wyll has. It was his city, once. His father is still in the Absolute's clutches. She has to keep going - for Wyll, if not for herself.

She swallows. She doesn't feel able to speak. But she meets Aylin's eyes and she nods.

Aylin returns the nod, sober and serious as the grave. Perhaps she understands something of the turmoil that boils in Rakha's head, just as Rakha understood the rage that burns in hers. "Do what you must," she says softly. "Then we fly this foul place."

[vertebreakher]

I feel like I really have to complain because while I think it's commonly understood that Monster Hunter has serious problem with with the differences between male and female armor sets, I get the impression most people assume it's very typical difference between "sexy" and "cool" armor. (Male hunters get big pauldrons, female hunters get bikinis.) But that's not really why the situation is so damn frustrating, because there's remarkably little actual fan service throughout the female armors. The sexy bikini armor is sometimes present, but it doesn't really represent what's going on. It's more like there's just an underlying assumption in what fashion style of armor the developers assume you want based on the player's chosen sex.

Like there are examples of a male/female dichotomy in the armor design actually being stylistically justified. Even if they're approaching masculine or feminine presentation in a very simplistic way (and let's be real many games will do far worse than that) it offers up some very interesting fashion choices.

Rhenoplos armor for example has some actual extremely fun differences. On the one hand, there's this extremely unique look for the male set that has a round build some very bizarre claw arms and this cool wide helmet. And on the other hand, you have this delightfully overly cutesy bear motif for the female armor where the gauntlets look perfectly ideal for punching the shit out of something. Deviljho armor also plays with gender dichotomy in a really fun way, effectively exploring that wrestling heel vibe through two very different forms of presentation and ideas of physical prowess.

Late game Barroth armor, Odogaron, Paolumu, I think these also stand as great examples of how male and female sets can positively contrast.

But there's a reason why differences are seen negatively, and Goss Harag is a great example of where things start to get really annoying, because ironically the two armor sets aren't that meaningfully different from eachother even though there are some minor differences because of the implied physical build of female characters. For the most part, they're the same armor set aside from the thigh and chest area. In my situation, getting to see that my character's armor emphasizes the boobs is actually kind of a plus. And the male armor emphasizes the pecs so much it's easily justified. ...but while the male Goss Harag set gets to have a sick skull helmet, the female one gets stuck with this stupid looking visor/headdress nonsense. Aside from the crime of being denied a cool skull helmet, were it not for that one point of difference I would not even have to think about what fashion I'm potentially losing out on at all.

It's likewise just as frustrating as with the Tetranadon armor. I don't really personally give that much of a shit how much skin is on display here or whether you can see their boobs. The differences between the male/female form are more egregious here but I'm not gonna die because of it. What drives me up a goddamn wall is that the male set gets this cool looking full gas mask helmet, and the female set gets a doofy hat with goggles. It's not even that I particular dislike the faces in monster hunter, it's that whether a character has a full helmet or not is all the difference in the world for how much of a cool badass you feel like.

This pattern repeats for a lot of armor sets throughout the games with varying degrees of difference between the male and female sets. The poster boy Rathalos, Legiana, Diablos, Seething Bazelgeuse and Nargacuga are all valid examples of this. The reason for this difference I have to assume is because there's an initial assumption from the designers about what I want. If I chose a female character it may be inferred that I am explicitly interested in seeing my character's face as often as possible. Because (I assume) they see that choice as me wanting to look at a female character for their body and the face just happens to be part of that. And that's not actually entirely inaccurate, but there's a difference in what I get out of that. And it's a little screwy to think that no one could choose a male hunter for similar reasons.

And I hate deliberately choosing a female character for my own sense of comfort only to loose out on the style and vibe the male armor oozes, which also from a trans perspective is a uniquely infuriating problem.

Going back to positive examples, the Frostfang Barioth Alpha armor does not have this problem. While I hold preference for the male helmet, I cannot deny that the female helmet is equally cool and conveys a distinct feminine quality that makes it feel sharp and dangerous. There are as many differences as there are similarities between these two armor sets, and the inclusion of the rapier accurately conveys what vibe they were going for with the female set, an equal degree of competence and mystique conveyed through elegance rather than machismo.

And it might be a bit difficult to talk about this problem without making it seem like I'm specifically complaining about objectification, I think that's a part of why this issue exists to begin with but I'm not really cool with harping on people who just want a create-a-character they can use to engage in light voyeurism. I don't like the idea that the solution here is to start taking away sexy outfits, that feels like moving backwards and I'd rather continue to put up with this problem than start putting my comfort above someone else's. Even though there are many sets where the differences could be simply phased out and merged into one armor set, It does not feel fair to do that at the expense of the range of choices and styles these different sets have brought, with Frostfang Barioth I think serving as a peak example of that positive aspect, a true silver lining. All in all, I would much rather that some thought be put into what parts of the existing armor designs are compatible with androgyny, and work on making both choices available to male and female hunters based on that. The best possible case scenario for me would be that female character get to look like a goddamn WH40K space marine in exchange for a bunch of spindly twinks in Nergigante bikinis. And somewhere in between those two extremes, I get to enjoy a much wider selection of cool helmets.

[birb-boyo]

HOW DID THE CHAIN MEET IN YOUR STEVEN UNIVERSE AU???

HOW DID TIME BECOME…TIME?!

ARE THE GODDESSES THE DIAMONDS? AND IF THEY ARE ARE THEY LIKE THE DIAMONDS IN THE SHOW???

WHAT IS RAVIO?? IS HE LIKE- A GEM THAT WAS CUT FROM THE SAME CRUST/KINDERGARTEN AS LEGEND???

TELL ME ABOUT IT SAHDE

OKAY

HELLO(I just got from my nap, sorry for the wait)

FOR THE FIRST QUESTION

All heroes, instead of having a triforce, they have a shard of First’s gem, also called the Shards of Courage. These shards are made of basically just Light because that was Hylia’s parting gift, to make his shards shine brighter than the morning sky. Ask the chain, except Sky, they fucking hate it. It’s Sky’s nightlight by the way. It’s like a naturally made flash bang. It’s an activation thing, so it’s not always there.

I don’t know why I explained that last part but whatever.

I actually haven’t thought about how they met, but I suppose we could stick with the iconic dream montage. Like, they all pass out randomly and suddenly First is talking to them like, “Hyrule needs her heroes to assemble and-“ blah blah blah

A lot of them probably ignore him, but some days later, when they all end up through a portal, surrounded by each other with their bright ass shards, they definitely believe the magic dream man.

SECOND QUESTION

Time is a fusion between Fierce and Mask

I should also clarify that Majora and Fierce were never masks, their gems were put in stasis. Skull Kid and Mask were able to gem those gems out of stasis(I didn’t think about how yet) and I guess the final fight was like a Pokemon fight and I love that idea so much but it’s also so stupid-

SO WHAY HAD HAPPENED WAS, AFTER THE BIG TERMINA FIASCO,

Mask and Fierce were going to part ways, but Fierce has been in stasis for so long, he knew that the surface had changed. Not only that, but being in stasis for so long made him weak. It made Majora and Fierce weaker than they used to be.

So Mask, still in a existential crisis, was like “we can be travelers together then” because mask didn’t want to seem like he used Fierce (even though he kinda did) so he offered to be travelers together with Fierce.

My boy Fierce took that “together” the wrong way and kinda forced Mask to fuse with him.

THEN BOOM, TIME EXISTS

Mask is kind of shaken like, “What the fuck?”

Fierce is kinda like, “Isn’t this what you meant?”

Mask is like, “No!” Mask then uses they mirror shield. “I mean…”

So now they’ve been fused for a good while. They also just feel safer inside the fusion because they know that if one fumbles, the other has their back.

I also have a feeling that no gem truly knows what it means to be married, so when marriage was proposed to Time, he was kinda just-🧍🏼‍♂️

Then Malon(I’m keeping her human…hylian) explained it sort of like, “Marriage is like promising to be best friends forever-“

“Then me and Fierce are married?”

“NO-“

THIRD QUESTION

I would give the Goddesses Diamonds. Nayru gets Blue, Farore gets Yellow, Din gets White, Hylia gets Pink.

Hylia gets pink because she is all over the place. But she is actually shattered too. She shattered herself after First got shattered so her shards(Shards of Wisdom) could be beside First’s for all eternity. You know Demise’s hating ass shards(Shards of Power) are also there, tearing shit up🥰🥰🥰

The other diamonds, Nayru, Farore, and Din, just monitor what the shard wielders are doing and making sure Hyrule doesn’t fall in on itself.

FORTH QUESTION

Yes, Ravio was born in the same Kindergarten as Legend. The same hole too. He was made after Legend though and came out “deformed”. Physically, Ravio doesn’t look really deformed, but other amethysts disagree. He’s skinnier and weaker and far more in the mind(smarter) than he should be.

That being said, my boy did not have fun while trying to serve his diamond. So he ran away. He attempted many times to run away, in turn, he was kind of tortured by his “siblings”. Don’t worry, there’s no crack, but other amethyst would forgive and forget in a solid three human years, but Ravio? Those nights are engraved into him gem.

In order to truly escape, he had the help of an opal(Hilda) they kinda just hang out together until they find another amethyst(Legend) on earth and started spying on him and WOW ANOTHER GAME INCOMING

Kinda dropped backstory there whoopsie😅

@the-cucco-nuggie :D

[spectralarchers]

Ghost is stopped by a mother and her young boy on the street because the boy liked Ghost's skull mask.

(614 words)

bittersweet ending ♥

___

"He's scary."

Ghost looks down and to the side from where he stands and sees a small boy half-hiding behind his mother, half holding onto the legs of her pants. He's staring while the mother looks horrified back at Ghost.

"I am /so/ sorry," she hurries to say as she awkwardly smiles at him. "He's been talking about you since you paid, he liked your skull face-mask a lot," she explains, as the child scoots a little bit further back, face now barely visible behind her legs.

Ghost smiles under the mask, forcing it slightly, trying to make eye contact with the kid as he turns to face them, as he slacks his shoulders a little bit to appear less tall than he is.

"Don't worry, it's okay, it's not the first time," he says to her.

She looks between him and her child as Ghost goes down to one knee on the pavement, putting down the bag of groceries he's been carrying in one hand by his side. As he does so, he reaches into the pocket of his vest and pulls out a zip lock bag.

"They're a bit too big, I think, but I've got some spare ones, if you want one," he says, opening the back with his thumb and index, and pulling out a clean and unused mask from it.

"Oh, you really don't have to do that-" she starts, only to be interrupted by the boy.

He's taken a step towards Ghost, his chin down on his chest, eyes looking up, like he doesn't dare make entirely eye-contact with Ghost, but too enticed by the idea of a skull mask.

"Here, you can take it," Ghost says, putting out his arm and hand towards the kid.

"Skulls are cool," the kid says then, and Ghost laughs, a chuckle rumbling in his chest.

"Yeah, they are. That's why I wear them," he responds and the kid's chin lifts slightly, his eyes going from the mask to Ghost's eyes and back.

"You're scary," the kid says then, and Ghost nods, his knee touching the ground to steady his own body weight as he stays at the kid's height.

"It's only an act," he adds, and the kid comes closer, as the mother trails half a step behind.

"If I look scary, then the scary people won't come and find me. It's why I wear this," he continues, as the kid's little hand goes up to take the mask from his.

As soon as the mask has changed hands, the child is back behind his mother, almost falling over his feet in the rush.

"You sure it's okay?" she asks, as Ghost stands up again, one hand out to indicate it's fine, as the other picks up the groceries again.

"It's fine, I've got plenty," he replies, folding the zip lock back into the pocket again.

"Thank you," she says then.

"Say thank you, to the man, Tommy."

Ghost's breath leaves his lungs and his heart misses a beat as the little boy steps forward and says a polite "Thank you Sir," his small hands wrangling the mask into a ball.

"Have a good day, and thank you again," she adds, unaware of the reaction she's just caused in Ghost. He stands there, watching them leave, groceries feeling heavier than they were before. The boy chatters back at his mother, and Ghost sighs.

He watches them until they've left, turned behind a corner up another street, and then looks back towards where he was walking himself.

At least one child will wear a skull mask without being terrified of it now. But why did the kid have to be called Tommy?

[wolfblood-of-anubis]

ALFIE TRIBUTE VIDEO NOTES!!!

alfie’s video is probably the one i was most inspired to make, he’s my favorite (idk if you know im kinda subtle about it)

the song 'experience' was def an easy first choice for alfie (but guess what it was almost the song i picked for eddie) it’s a song about gaining experience and maturity and that’s exactly what Alfie does

im still using imovie, nothing new there

im writing this before starting the video so hopefully i managed to keep it in the 5 minutes that is the song (future caroline laughs in mocking, then proceeds to cry)

i got it to 8 mins, which imo is progress to my editing

but the uncut version is 14 mins

(so by that logic... Patricia's could end up being around 4-6 mins long while her uncut version could turn out to be 8)

but at this point it's anyone's guess

the opening for alfie being put down or called annoying or how he ‘ruins everything’ etc was in the back of my head for two months. during recording, during editing nina's video, i knew exactly how i wanted to start his video. (that's in the uncut version, and Sneak Peek 3)

then i listened to 'cult' by gabriel saban and realized oh no... no we can't start there unfortunately.

we needed to feel as terrified and as anxious as alfie got when he went through all that trauma (and future trauma)

we get this class clown causing mischief with his best buddy and then this traumatic event happens to him in the cellar.

something he can barely comprehend, and it involved people who are supposed to be taking care of him in this academy. he sees victor drink out of a skull and anubis dog masks and chanting and becomes catatonic by the end of it.

then he drinks who knows what and has to be hospitalized.

then he slowly becomes part of sibuna as they finally tell him the truth and he is eager to prove himself to them, that he isn’t scared and he’ll help (cut to him telling amber 'im part of the club now' to then him being traumatized multiple times from it)

what i love about this is that he IS scared, he’s terrified but he still does it, and he screws up, he gets tricked by jerome into spilling secrets, jerome just takes the ankh piece he was guarding, he messes up a lot but it was mainly in part due to jerome just being a bad friend

and then INSTANTLY i paired it with s3 Alfie telling Jerome after his advice to keep Amber in the dark about fashion school, “See that’s the great thing about having you for a friend, whatever you suggest I know I should just do the opposite.” and then he takes his sandwich, what a boss (ok so i didnt end up using this scene, but the scene exists and i wanted to remind people)

that’s just one little thing Alfie has matured in from S1 to S3, already in S2 he’s very careful about what he lets Jerome know. especially when everyone knows that Rufus is alive, Jerome is jumpy and thinks that whatever Sibuna is doing it could be Rufus-related but Alfie promises him it’s not. but he also never tells him anything else.

alfie's video weirdly gave me less of a headache than nina's if that makes sense. it's probably bc it's my second time doing it. with nina, that was my first tribute video ever. (very different from just pairing a song to silent clips)

when choosing subtitles, pick English bc i spent a lot of time on them, thank you.

i didn't include a lot of willow scenes (or amfie) because well, while he and Willow developing a relationship is sweet and healthy, and they're perfect together, it wasn't necessarily that big for the video

but if anyone wants an alfie + willow video, i have the content to do it, i just need a song to pair it to, so feel free to send me some!

i intentionally made the first part of the video, Fear, be very out of order, it's messy, and for me it's like it's Alfie trying to remember what happened and while he does, it's still fuzzy

the audio at the end of the video is from Doctor Who's S08 E04 Listen, where the Doctor tells a little boy to use his fear to empower himself. (the little boy could also easily play a younger Alfie)

if you want to watch it just type 'doctor who don't look. listen.' in yt, it's the first video that pops up.

however, there's other audio during the scenes where Alfie is running with the fake mask, "Fear is fear. It doesn't speak in riddles. Fear means you're smart. You understand the risks." (and that is from Star Trek Picard S2 E06 (no i dont want the show or anything to do with star trek, but the audio is fantastic and i really liked it)

anyway, that audio is probably my favorite part of alfie's whole video (including the uncut version)

[sana-yan]

fantasy booking/meta post-nj cup 2023;

!! spoilers under cut ↴

on SANADA;

following his big njcup win, i would love to see sanada get strapped with the belt. it's a similar beat to okada, 2016 naito (sanada's debut!!), EVIL (*sighs in missed opportunities*), and ospreay. if njpw is going all-in on SANADA, and they should considering he's taken up the niche that was once kota's, they need to give him legitimacy.

i think we can foresee a reign with a lot of changeover, but i'd like for SANADA to have at least a handful of solid defences against challengers -- he has a great set of rivals now that he's in the same "league" as them: okada, ZSJ (!!!!!!!!!), naito, EVIL (*sighs in future missed opportunities*), pwnoah's soya, shingo, and ospreay (!!)

with taichi by his side, they might even tease a short tag team run too. dangerous skulls, let's goo

all in all, a great showing from sana-yan and he has a lot to show.

on OKADA & chaos;

okada's due for a changeup and i think that his recent aggression with his own stablemates and looking to milf ace tanahashi could be interesting to play into, especially since chaos hasn't been a unit lately. robbie's quiet defection into tmdk has had no effect on his stablemates, which is always kind of disappointing but at this point; what is chaos? chaos during the nakamura leadership felt more cohesive, just a couple of lads doing their thing, but since okada has moved onto greener pastures, the group as a whole feels aimless in the story they're telling together.

people might dislike bullet club drama but at least the players are trying to make a script that involves everyone. :/ chaos as of late only get together to film a ytr dvd

which is why okada's tag match against bishamon was super cool! he went all heelish on them to the point where it's like -- kazu, those are your stablemates, mate, you have to see them later after the match -- if they pull the trigger on okada breaking up chaos (instead of another chaos defection) or his stablemates worrying about his recent attitude change and challenging him, that would be a fresh take on a severely underdeveloped stable as of late

on STRONG STYLE (ren, szk, despy);

what did they do to my beautiful boy desperado.......... i hate cheap mask removal spots, especially with despy. it just pains me this is where he is at when he's elevated the jr.'s scene while hiromu was injured for so long. now that he's down in the muck with h.o.t. on the undercard, that signals his contract might be a freelancer's (see also suzuki).

i am torn because despy is a very versatile wrestler and he will be a crowd fave for this year's wrestle peter pan, but i hate that his home promotion in njpw didn't give him the big win over hiromu. (bosj 27 kicked ass btw so if you haven't seen it, i strongly recommend thistle's watch guide here.) maybe he's taking matters into his own hands and raising his value in other promotions, but it saddens me that they'd resort to unmasking him like that when bosj 27's unmasking scene was story-laden and signified a big moment.

SHO is a funny lad and all but this felt such a disservice to have h.o.t. beat down ren and despy. what happened to their tag partners, taguchi and yano? where did they escape to? this is the issue i have with njpw face factions such as hontai. if they're faces, shouldn't they try to help ren and despy?

ren has the opposite throughline to shota and i'm sensing some darker edge to him which has got me fantasy booking like crazy. if the honorable fighter style of his mentor, shibata, didn't work, why not fall into the darker desires to finally defeat h.o.t.?

with suzuki-san and despy supposedly out of new japan's main scene for the time being, it sure would be interesting if ren went to the other fighter with ties to shibata who isn't afraid to get sadistic to win... aka give me the shibata-kenta lovechild ren narita. son of strong style gone dark with KENTA as his new influence. KENTA's been talking on about how ren is shibata's clone, so it wouldn't be a stretch to give ren backup just to spite shibata and also because elp hates h.o.t.

ren, elp, and KENTA vs h.o.t. doesn't sound too bad, depending on how bullet club is going to fracture following debbie-chan's loss this tournament. the never trios have gone down in quality, so adding KENTA's star power and elp's surge of popularity could elevate the trios scene, as well as give ren some more charisma with the crowd that shota is surfing on.

i think suzuki is going over KENTA in their upcoming match. suzuki wants to work more in the US and him holding the strong belt is good branding for the njpw strong show.

on TAICHI & J5G;

taichi, my beloved

that is all

nah, nah, i'll do a more focused meta on the breakdown of taichi's character someday but i'll say that this era of "kingmaker taichi" is a logical progression of his character. while j5g has no leader (based communist stable lmao), it's clear that the "emotional leader" is taichi.

i expect to see more of douki and kanemaru in bosj, and of course, for SANADA to be heavily protected (as he should! that's their ace!) in upcoming matches. while i will weep with a heavy heart at our holy emperor might be staring up at the house lights like TAKA, he has a "kenta kobashi"-lite underdog grit that i think that his losses only further develop his character and won't cool him off that easy. his backstage promos are witty, and the moments where he heavily blames himself for not being up to the standard of his partnering ace (milano, ZSJ, and hopefully sana-yan) signify the character's hardships. he also gets the crowd going hot when he's doing his mid-to-late match fire ups. idk if the man behind taichi just binge-watched a lot of classic ajpw and king's road but i am all for it. he's got kingston-like vibes but instead of addressing his enemies, he's addressing his friends.

i don't expect j5g to suddenly dominate the scene, but i hope we get a kobashi type payoff for taichi and douki like we just had with sana-yan.

on TMDK;

this pains me to say but imo tmdk are the least interesting active stable as a whole. individually, zsj + fujita is great, but the way that tmdk formed its group feels rushed and out of the blue to the majority of the crowd who didn't know the wrestlers had connections from way back. i know those two other dudes are zack's best pub lads but comparing them to the the presentation of early united empire, they don't stand out for me much. robbie relocating to tmdk might be a good move since chaos is... chaos... however, just like zack's induction in the group, i wish their major beats wasn't skipped or spedrun.

i guess they'll say that zack's lads talked with robbie at tamashii in australia? the others should try to find something to grip onto outside of relying on zsj's popularity and his current storyline with fujita vs the spurned young lions. i hope they can turn it around. i don't really enjoy eagles as a performer and i'm holding on for the payoff to the zsj story, but without an interesting storyline, this is low on my priorities. perhaps a full faction vs faction feud can spice up tmdk outside of shota vs zack for the tv belt.

on UE;

aussie open are perfect lads!! njcup was their place to shine, and they did rightfully so. i adore big men such as dunky, the stan hansen comparisons are appropriate, and kyle's little brother vibes mesh well with the cockiness of the UE. hoping they get a good rivalry with bishamon. while i'm not high on catch 22, i love cobb, o-khan, and henare's trios bond. tbh i am not as invested in ospreay's journey vs kenny, but i am excited for potential matchups with sanada, taichi, and okada.

on BOSJ :(;

as pointed out earlier, despy is out. :(

if hiromu's goal, and njpw's goal, is to elevate the jr.'s scene as much as liger did back in the day, they can't have hiromu dominating this field so much. liger's time felt amazing because they built up great rivals for him (naoki sano, wild pegasus).

the parallels with okada are fine and all but because njpw devalued so many of hiromu's rivals, i'm not as invested in the scene anymore, which is wild since the jr.'s scene is what made me subscribe in the first place.

the most i can hope for is douki to advance far and for new fresh blood to join this year's tourney.

on BULLET CLUB;

i am so glad debbie-chan lost because this added pressure to the angle is what they needed to differentiate it from previous power struggle storylines. before, it was leader vs leader or mini factions within bullet club duking it out with each other, but now this feels more like an ideology of who and what bullet club should be and aspire to do.

as unhelpful as chase is with his "both sides have a point" schtick, elp's focus on bullet club and finlay's focus on bullet club will determine the post-jay white era. i have mentioned it in previous posts but wishing for jay white to return won't help to revitalize the club as a whole. bullet club merch moved because the leader was getting belts and wins, and jay advocated for himself a lot. cheating as well, same with breaking the pace, and cooling off the crowd. all of these are great and they work for jay.

but people seem to have recency bias. jay wasn't universally respected or beloved when he positioned himself as the new leader. a lot of people hated him because he wasn't kenny omega, the best bout machine workhorse. we're seeing it again with finlay.

i think gedo knows that recreating jay will never get finlay over. he's harkening back to the workhorse heel like late aj styles and heavyweight kenny omega. i think that's the best foot forward in a post-jay vacuum.

i flung this idea around before but i would not be opposed to finlay cleaning house and replacing who he thinks are "soft" with the bc rogue army at tamashii. they are fierce and vicious. not only are they based in australia, making it easier to bring them, maybe ace austin and chris bey will be in this upcoming bosj, making it a numbers game between those who side with elp and those who side with finlay.

on ELP;

i love this cheeky little jevil (jester/devil) and unlike the popular takes, i don't want him to go pure babyface. i know he can, but he shines the most as a smarmy tweener-heel who loves derailing the match. only he can pull off his petty tactics without getting "go home" chants from the crowd.

if not in bc proper, it wouldn't hurt to put him in more tweener or other heel factions. i know for sure i do not want him in lij, his beef with shingo works best as it is, and chaos is dead in the water. with how njpw strong is being remade, and my unbidden bias for the filthmeister, i'm going to throw a curveball and fantasize about a team filthy!elp. team filthy is small enough for elp to have a bigger spotlight and also raise the brand of strong to the audience. also i really like tom lawlor and want to see him and royce more in japan lmao

on SAKURA GENESIS 2023;

bishamon vs ao: gonna be a banger

hiromu vs eagles: ngl, if they don't amp up the story, it'll be a forgettable fued. while it'll be no doubt, flashy af, if it doesn't rejuvenate a "lolhiromuwins" scene, the jr.'s are kind of bland. i actually thought lio rush was a perfect foil to hiromu as a rival b (with despy being rival a), and he'd be sorely missed. a draw between the two would have been very rare but also very awesome. others have brought up KUSHIDA to challenge hiromu because i think it'll be a hiromu win at skr gen 2023, but i think if they want to move the jr.'s forward, they're going to have to bring in new beats to old rivalries, or new rivals altogether. i don't think eagles has it in yet, but i am always looking forward to be proven wrong, so i hope the build to this is good for both wrestlers.

okada vs sanada; ngl their feuds have not been up to par with sana-yan's previous persona, but if njpw keeps these matches shorter, this okada vs sanada could really be truly worthy of moty. i personally would love to see sanada winning, with more borrowed new moves added to his set, but i won't be surprised if okada goes over. i'll keep a close eye on both competitors because now this match up finally has a dramatic gravitas.

[jackdaw-and-hattrick]

“How? How can you be sure he isn’t tricking you?” Batman growled, voice barely kept below his version of a scream.

painfearnonotagainpleasefearnonopainfearfearfearfear

“How?” Jason bit back, “The same goddamn way I knew that Willis was a coward who beat up on his girlfriend and kid ‘cause it made him feel big but who whimpered like a dog at the first sign of danger. That Catherine’s friend Luci who came by every Saturday was in love with her loooong before she broke down on the couch watching Thelma and Lois. That Catherine loved me more than almost anything. I know the way I know every goddamn bastard I’ve ever put a bullet in was never, ever gonna change because, fuck, there's a difference between regret and not wanting to die. The way I know just how much Alfie adores us all and all the fucking anger he’s been harboring under since nine years old is still right there under Dick’s witch hazel-soaked skin! He just got fucking guilty about it! I know...”

The wind swept in strong from the east, blowing a steady stream of rain against his face. Fuck the old bastard, didn't even have the decency to confront him when he was in costume. No, he just landed on his fucking roof at fuck all at night. Now he was standing there in a weathered old teeshirt, plaid flannel pants, and a pair of knit socks gifted to him by the old woman next door, all of which were growing progressively soaked.

“I know the same way I knew that day when you grabbed me, that Batman wasn't some fucking Cryptic, he was a sad, lonely little man and, hell, maybe I was feeling kinda sad an’ lonely too. I thought maybe, just maybe you’d get me, but it turns out your just some fucked up billionaire, and me? I’m a useless freak who can’t even fucking die right.”

Nonononopleasehowhelpsorrysorryhelp?

“Jason...”

shockhurtshockconfusedhelp?hELP?

“But Danny... He’s... He’s something else. The first time I met him I was pissed and looking to get blackout drunk. He went out of his way to calm me down and cheer me up, even though he was absolutely miserable. He just... Gets it. He makes me feel like person in a way that I haven't since I clawed my way out of that fucking grave. He knows what it's like to feel like a freak; to feel so goddamn helpless and useless and alone.

“Yeah, he’s dangerous. So am I. Hell, so are you. But he chooses every. single. fucking. day to be kind, even when he’s hurting. Yeah, he’s a sarcastic, petty bastard. I probably couldn't stand him if he wasn't. That doesn't change that he’s experienced the absolute worst humanity fucking offers at the hands of his parents and your buddies at the GiW and still only wants to keep everyone from the pain he’s suffered. I mean, the man’s been fucking vivisected! But he still wants to help; to be good for some godforsaken reason!

“You’re a genius, you can’t be a fucking idiot too. You know how to check for bias in fucking research. You know not to trust someone just ‘cause some fucking politicians got payed to think they’re a good idea. Danny doesn't deserve to be hunted like this. He’s just a person! Same as you or me or your stupid blue boy scout! Just...let this go. I know that phrase isn’t exactly one that fits through that tiny ass crack in your skull new ideas seep through, but please…

Let us feel like people together,”

A familiar clawed hand landed on Jason’s shoulder. He looked up, met not with a mask but the face of the man who had taken him in so long ago. He looked worn, exhausted in the way only those who’d seen far too much for their years could be.

SorrypleaseForgIvEmE “I’m sorry.” hUrtSorRypLEasesorry

Jason felt Bruce’s words more than he heard them, an overpowering rush of agony crashing into him like a hailstorm.

“I didn't mean... Didn't mean to hurt you, but I did, and I’m sorry.”

“……………………………………………………..The fuck…”

Jason had expected a lot. He had expected a fight, some overwrought, battle of will type bullshit. What he hadn’t expected, what he’d never expected since the first time he and Bruce had got in anything that could be considered a fight was for the old bastard to actually apologize. Hell, up until a few seconds ago Jason wasn’t sure it was even in his vocabulary. Suddenly he was enveloped in strong, armor-clad arms, the thick leather like material of a pitch black cape as warm and comforting as a worn childhood blanket.

“You don’t have a meta gene.” SorRoWgRieffaiLedfAiledhow

“Really,” he sopped tearily, “that’s what you’re gonna focus on here?”

“It’s true.”

(It’s all he could think to say)

Jason felt some small satisfaction in that he could at least give the single most irritating answer situationally possible.

“‘S not genetic, ‘s magic.”

“Hmrrr” whywhyfrustrationwhywhy

“Danny’s helping me with it.”

“Good.”

Now, if Jason hadn’t been expecting Bruce’s apology, it’s quite understandable that Bruce’s then proceeding to condone an unknown “helping” one of his children with something even remotely tasting of magic, especially something which had apparently been an ongoing issue hidden behind Bruce’s back which he still didn’t understand was almost enough to have Jason wondering if this was all a highly elaborate dream being used to trap him in his own subconscious. Still, Jason could smell Bruce’s cologne. It was something rich, probably from Dick and probably called something “deep bourbon dream”, not at all like the musty floral stuff he'd worn back when Jason could wear scaled shorts without a hint of irony.

( “It was my mother’s,”

“I found a bottle in her room before it was sealed shut. The smell always makes me feel safer; like she is still here to protect me when everything becomes too much. Don't know what I'll do when it runs out.”)

(An undersized boy, clinging tight to his father, his B, like a koala against the barrage of feelings pushing at his head. He’s safe here, in the dark, the smell of sweat and old perfume drowning the negative emotions he so easily forgets are not directed at him.)

“Look who needs to be checked for possible mental manipulation now.”

Jason tries for sarcastic but his words come out as soggy as his socks.

“Hmh,” he said, a soft grin poking the unwieldy corners of his face.

“Goddamnit I’m trying to be pissed at you right now.”

The two sat there for a long moment, both unwilling to be the first to break whatever fragile spell had tessered together the frayed corners of their relationship for them to have a moment like this. The rain was letting up. Heavy clouds held their breath at the seemingly impossible sight.

“‘Should probably go back in before I freeze off something important.”

Both stood. Bruce pulled his cowl back up in a clean motion and Jason made a feeble attempt to squeeze the rain out of his utterly soaked shirt. Still, he wiped it across his face, more or less clearing his vision and absolutely failing at playing off his reddened eye as yet another byproduct of the storm. Goddamn it, he hadn’t cried this much when he died. Then again that could just be because of the extreme heat and his stubborn refusal to cry in front of off-brand Crusty the Clown. Already Bats was halfway across the roof, the slick concrete meaningless in the wake of his decades of practice in getting the Hell outta dodge.

“Hey,” there was something fragile in Jason’s chest as he spoke, as if the wrong word could tumble out at any moment and break him, “Try not to die, ‘kay? It's not fun.”

Bats briefly paused, not even looking back as he nodded. Hesitationfearapreciationcarewhy?why?why? why?

“And tell Alfie to set an extra place for Sunday dinner!” Jason shouted, “‘Got someone special I’d like you all to meet!”

Empath

Jason Todd is an empath, something that probably no one would believe if they were told the story of Red Hood. It's not an ability he likes to brag about either, honestly, Jason hates it, as much as he hates being back from the dead, it makes him feel different, it makes him feel like he doesn't fit in.

It starts small, with a boy who feels his mother's pain and his father's rage. With a child who sees Batman and instead of a big scary bat feels layers and layers of sadness. It starts with Robin, feeling too much and wanting to change everything for the better.

He never tells Bruce, what good would it do? It's not a useful skill, sensing the Joker's madness didn't help to prevent his death. Feeling Bruce's despair wasn't enough to keep his eyes open.

It ends too quickly, too soon. Maybe for that reason he was given a second chance. One that Jason didn't want. Pit madness feels a thousand times stronger than it should, it pollutes his mind, it seeps into his heart and Jason hates it a little more every day.

Then, he meets Danny in a bar, full of smiles and biting comments but so so scared. He hears his silent pleas, his regrets, his desire to belong, to not be hated. And for the first time in a long time, Jason's heart breaks a little.

For the first time in a long time, the pits fall silent and give way to the confused feelings of the boy beside him.

Danny becomes part of the routine, Jason doesn't quite know how but the boy refuses to leave. He never asks about Red Hood, though the small flicker of doubt every time Jason leaves the apartment confirms that he knows. He never stops him, he just smiles and waits for him with a first aid kit under his arm, bandages his wounds and sleeps beside him.

Jason knows he is dangerous but can't help but love him as much as he can't help but feel the pain that accompanies the boy.

Then, his little home life is invaded by Bruce (worried, always worried, overly cautious), he warns him that Danny is a dangerous creature, warns him that he will hurt him. Jason can't help but snort.

Jason knows Danny isn't human, it's not something his ability tells him, it's just easy to deduce. But when Danny confesses it to him (scared, so so scared), he downplays it, tells him it's okay and he can go back to sleep. Danny doesn't fit into what's normal, but that's okay, he doesn't either.