#is that i felt i HAD to have it all done even though in retrospect the rough draft would've been sufficient as a starting point

[octosan]

I've seen the take that Veilguard's lore handling is the way that it is because it was largely worked on by a team that isn't familiar with Dragon Age, and I... don't know about that.

Like it's kind of funny in retrospect, but

For all the mistakes the Vows and Vengeance podcast made, that show felt more to me like an example of a story trying to incorporate relevant Dragon Age lore, but being written by people who weren't well-versed in it.

They had Tevinter class divide and bureaucratic apathy as a major plot point that affected the main character's life. They had Solas employing middlemen and tricking characters to get some of his work done instead of doing everything himself. They had multiple references to the faiths of the setting, including Davrin referencing worship practices in Dalish culture (they even used the term The Beyond, the Dalish term for the Fade that even Inquisition kind of forgot was a thing even if it was not the Dalish character using it.) They had a cult other than the Venatori as an antagonist at one point. They had an instance of racially charged conflict between Bellara, an elven Veil Jumper, and a Tevinter templar, that originates from the templars looting elven artifacts (something that is implied to happen often.) They at least tried to depict an example of regular Qunari culture in the village in Par Vollen that the protagonists wind up in briefly. They had Lucanis, a Crow, actually carry out an assassination of a non-combatant character. They had multiple demons playing mind games with the characters trying to get their bodies as hosts, in addition to a demon that just rampaged, and even referenced despair demons being ice-coded. They depicted the Fade as a chaotic and emotionally-driven realm, with spirits and demons everywhere--and fittingly Arlathan, a forest with a lot of influence from the Fade, was itself a dangerously chaotic and shifting place. Bellara explains what Veil Jumping entails and actually veil-jumps (and it's accordingly treated like a big deal for the characters). They reference Genitivi and Varric as prominent authors in the world-building. They had grenades. They even brought back the idea of being "Fade touched" with Drayden. They had asfkdksadfgkb HAD A MABARI.

Also the podcast wasn't constantly reassuring you, patting you on the back, and repeating information to you every second so that's nice.

I thought most of the companions came off better here too, with the idea that this is just supposed to be a snapshot of them. I remember enjoying their inclusion the most and trying to speculate what traits and flaws were on display that might get expanded on in the game (for example Emmrich's attitude of trying to "parent" a demon failing spectacularly, or Davrin being depicted as actually taking his clan's faiths seriously despite not being among them anymore.) Taash not realizing they're nonbinary until long after meeting Drayden, who had their own personal issues with their family about their identity, feels like some kind of missed opportunity though (I mean realistically the podcast was just supposed to advertise the game so I know why this is, but still.)

idk if this is a hot take. like imo the podcast wasn't "good" good and again there were clear mistakes in the lore, a lot of the stuff set in Antiva for example, like it was messy. But I had more of a sense that these were people new to the setting but trying than I did with Veilguard.

Idk to me the problem was less that the writers in Veilguard didn't know anything about Dragon Age and more that it was an extremely sanitized and simplified version of the lore, one that couldn't even take into account the world-changing decisions you made in previous games. With a helping of things being shoved under the rug to avoid Discourse. Like it felt more intentional to me, for the most part. And then you have all the visual errors that come from just reusing assets which is an RPG staple at this point (someone pointed out that the Chantry symbols in Minrathous are wrong, for example.)

[thebramblewood]

I was tagged by @retrotrait, @simvanie, @moonwoodhollow, @aheathen-conceivably annnnnnd @salemssimblr to post my top 24 screenshots from 2024, but I jumped the gun on posting a retrospective earlier this month.

I still wanted to do something, though, so I'm going to take some inspiration from @elderwisp and talk about my favorite story scenes of the year specifically - since there's nothing I love more than yapping and reminiscing.

Before I start rambling, I'll tag @living-undead, @esotericas-sims, @fallstaticexit, @simsdaughters, @biffybobs, @whyeverr, @kissalopa and @earthmoonz! I'm sure some of you have already done this (and no pressure if you don't want to), but I'd love to see you reflect on your year in whatever way suits you!

Good food and hard truths with Grace Anansi (one, two). I think this is quietly one of my favorite moments in the story so far because it revealed so much about Caleb's past that until this point had only been hinted at. It also gave him a friend and confidante, which he sorely needed. This was an extremely lengthy and exposition-heavy conversation, so it was challenging but rewarding to write, edit (endlessly), and execute in a compelling way. Plus, its final moments had to lead seamlessly into...

Party like a spellcaster (one, two). I think this was the first flashback in the story, so it was a pretty big deal! It was also the point where my ambitions started making scene preparation increasingly complicated. I spent a hell of a long time converting broomsticks and potions into pose accessories, but I was so pleased with how the vision came together, and it taught me a lot of skills that have become indispensable as my ideas grow more elaborate. Overall, it was a welcome moment of levity and joy for Caleb, even as we know tragedy looms in the future.

Lilith does a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad thing. Turns out once I started doing flashback scenes, I couldn't stop. You guys have no idea how it felt to sit on this particularly nasty secret for months. I wanted it to be a shocking reveal that fully established Lilith's villain status, but I also knew I would have to get her back into Helena's - and our - good graces eventually. It's been interesting to write a character like her who you love and hate at once. Ultimately, I want all of us to be on the same rollercoaster ride as Helena, equal parts repulsed and fascinated. This was especially wild to bring to life because it felt pretty surreal to be adding a whole new layer to this idea that originated years ago in my legacy!

Helena Zhao can't come to the phone right now. I was very proud of this scene because it was the first one where I made all the poses myself. It was also a major turning point in Helena and Julia's relationship, where their sisterly bond is deeply tested. I may have cried a little while writing and shooting it. I really enjoyed the brief moments we got to spend in Julia's perspective, and I hope to bring her back if the story calls for it. Although she was in extreme shock at what her sister had done, I imagine she'd eventually come around to having a bit more compassion for her situation. She'd probably be open to reconciling someday, presuming Helena ever sets foot in Copperdale again.

Reunited and it feels so... good? (one, two). I didn't even realize I posted Helena and Lilith's reunion on April Fool's! Everyone was waiting with bated breath to see if they would ever cross paths again... and who are we kidding? Of course they would! I had a very good time writing this conversation and giving Helena a chance to finally get everything off her chest - though, of course, she couldn't help but be worn down by Lilith's manipulative charm in the end. And then Caleb got his comeuppance for keeping the truth of what happened a secret for so long, reminding us once again just how scary Lilith can be.

Plasma Pals! As dark as this story is, I enjoy weaving in moments of comedy and lightness when I can, so it was really fun to portray Caleb and Helena's evolving friendship through the lens of a cheesy sitcom. I wasn't sure it would hit with anyone other than me because the funniest things I write are usually accidental. It's hard to be funny on purpose! But it ended up being possibly my most popular story post ever, so obviously I did something right.

Lilith teaches Helena the true art of supernatural seduction. I wanted this section of the story to be all about the two very different approaches Lilith and Caleb take to teaching Helena. This was one of my most technically challenging scenes. I shot the entire attack sequence twice because I was underwhelmed the first time. But in the end I'm glad I took the time to do that because it contains some of my favorite screenshots ever and really conveys Helena's internal struggle. But will she be able to resist when it inevitably happens again?

The night where it all began, part one. I love this entire series of flashbacks, but I'm particularly fond of the opening because we finally get a glimpse into what Caleb and Lilith's relationship was like as humans. It turns out they liked each other! And only bickered in a light-hearted way! And conspired and giggled together! This was another scene where I made all the poses. It was exhausting, but these flashbacks to the Vatores' vampire origins were so important for me to get right. I'd been thinking about them for a long time, so I wanted them to be as perfect as possible.

How Caleb was transformed, one and two. Again with the flashbacks! I think part of the reason I like them so much is because, as much work as they are, they always offer a change of scenery that refreshes my creativity. This particular scene was one I was obsessing over for months, so I had cultivated a very specific vision of how it would play out and didn't want to compromise. I'm glad I had the foresight to start learning posing far enough in advance that I felt ready to take it on. If I had to choose, this is my single favorite scene of the year. Everything came together exactly how I wanted, and it gives me chills every time I revisit it.

A very vampiric dinner date, part two. This entire sequence took so much work to complete from beginning to end! But it was the first big outing beyond Forgotten Hollow in a while, and I wanted it to be special. I enjoyed being able to put a bunch of pre-mades into compromising positions with your guys' vampires. As much of a pain as it is to pose multiple Sims, the end results are always worth it. And then, of course, the sequence resolves in Helena and Lilith having a genuine moment of intimacy for the first time since Helena was turned, which had us all squealing.

Helena is horny and confused. Can you believe this is the only Ulrike appearance of the year? 😭 I'm really glad I managed to sneak one in. Even though they broke up before she was turned, Ulrike is the ultimate reminder of Helena's human life, of everything she left behind and of what could have been. Other than her family, Ulrike is who Helena misses most when she thinks about the past. This scene was pulled together quickly based on me finding the pose pack. I wasn't entirely sure if it would even work as part of the main narrative. But I feel like the spontaneity made it feel extra special, even if it is a smaller moment.

Forgotten Hollow 101. If anything, the theme of this year has been taking an increasingly long amount of time to finish every post. This is in part because I got busier in the second half of the year but also because I can't stop thinking up crazy complicated ideas. This one took me a month more or less. Even though each vampire only had one picture, it required a lot of effort to get them all in game, find poses, set up locations, etc.! But it was so important to me to do justice to your guys' vampires, so I was happy to take the time, even in the couple of moments where I began to feel burned out. I hope to keep showing off your lovely creations next year!

[mimicteruyo]

The next time I post a multichapter, odds are I won't have the penultimate draft of the entire thing on the ready. We'll be way closer to working chapter by chapter*, baby!

(*I won't start posting before I have a FUNCTIONAL draft of the entire thing because omg)

[jasontoddiefor]

Yeah sure we’ve all binged a long fic, but have you ever read a WIP and followed someone’s life?

Tidbits of information - (“I graduated today!”) - and small joys (“It’s my birthday!”) and you get to be there to say “This chapter made me cry, happy birthday, thank you for gifting us this”.

I remember reading this fic of someone at the end of high school, older than me then. They seemed infinitely wise, spoke of their future career and getting into the college they wanted. I remember them posting on days they felt like nothing could bring them down - and on days the whole world did and it’s the aftermath of a hospital visit. Cancer, I think it was, their father. I got to the end of the story, I know their father was fine, but also they got to finish their WIP. I graduated three years later than them, still dutifully wrote thank you notes in every comment. I wonder if they remember me, or just the collective of people reading the story as it updates.

Four years ago I was into my first year of university, my first year of figuring out being out in public spaces. I made excuses as to why my name didn’t match my paperwork and read a fic on the train, the same five chapters over and over again for the next years as I thought the story abandoned. It updated this week after such a long hiatus, I left another thank you comment.

There’s an author I love, they update their stories like a clockwork. When they don’t, I check their blog, just to see if their doing alright, not because I feel like they owe me, just to ensure whether I better get out my laptop to write that really detailed university level essay chapter analysis to get them smiling when their day sucked.

And then, once, when I was 17, I read a fic that hadn’t updated in over a decade. I wasn’t even in primary school when it started posting. On the last chapter, I left a comment that, in retrospect, was horribly rambly and most likely full of grammar mistakes. The author replied and though I couldn’t see their face, I thought of them crying. They were married now, had children, and hadn’t thought about this fic in years. They went through their files again, found another half written chapter and an outline. I got two new chapters to read that year.

And then, recently, someone told me they got back into writing original fiction because of my comments. I get to read nearly weekly chapters.

I love binge reading a finished fic, but nothing is ever going to top the feeling of anticipation of waiting for a chapter, the pure joy when someone tells you I was done with this, but you made me think of it again, so this is for you.

Anyway, I think we should romanticize reading WIPs more, growing up alongside the authors writing the stories we love.

[httpsserene]

Jealous sex with Charles 🤩

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐜𝐥. 𝟏𝟔

summary: there’s no reason for charles to be jealous of men who are stupid enough to think they have a chance with you. content warning: 18+ only. mdni. explicit sexual content. jealous sex. tennis. monte carlo masters winner stefanos tsitsipas used as a plot device. porn with a side of plot. mildly possesive!charles leclerc. jealousy. reader’s kindness is misunderstood for flirting. no infidelity. vaginal sex. unprotected sex(don’t do that!). fingering. missionary & cowgirl. rough(ish?) sex. the clothes stay on. uhm, reader gets railed stupid, lowkey. cumplay (i’m so sorry). pairing: charles leclerc x fem!bpoc!reader word count: 2.8k words.

from serene: surprised i finished this when i said i would. to make a long story short, i’m breaking up with my boyfriend 🤪✌🏽ANYWAYS, i listened to the beauty behind the madness and my dear melancholy albums by the weekend to lock in the smexxy vibes. idk if it worked, it took me two days to write less than 3k words 🙂 y’all lmk if you think the wait was worth it, and enjoy reading lovelies x

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The car ride home was quiet. You figured it was post-tennis exhaustion keeping your boyfriend quiet; the entire match was viewed with the Monte Carlo sun radiating down on the stands. Secondarily, the silence could’ve been induced by a little social exhaustion even though Charles thrives in crowds—the two of you spent a couple of hours before the match chatting to anyone who approached him, which felt like every person at the event had to have his attention for a brief moment. Then after the match, the two of you spent another hour speaking with the Master’s Winner, Stefanos, and the Prince, before you were able to take your exit.

So, you attributed his low energy to being sun-tired and talked-out. In retrospect, you should’ve known that it was more than fatigue from how Charles failed to put his hand on your thigh as he drove, and how he sat through slow-crawling traffic without ever moving to turn on music or talk. Your weariness prevented you from prodding further when the Monegasque responded with a nearly inaudible hum when asked if he was tired—the lack of presence in his answer felt like confirmation.

Yet, you realize it wasn’t an answer at all when you entered your home.

Your comments and questions about the match and dinner plans were met with one-word answers and off-timed hums of indifference in response. It’s not until the two of you are in your bedroom getting unready that Charles speaks more than a single word.

“Stefanos was nice, wasn’t he?” 

You pause in your action of taking off an earring, a puzzled tilt to your brow at the odd tone his words took, eyes examining him in the reflection of your vanity’s mirror. He stares down at his forearm as he unclasps his watch, his expression unreadable from his side profile. 

“Yes…he was,” you answer slowly, your confusion growing as you see Charles’ jaw clench, “I didn’t imagine him to be so, normal, I guess? After winning the Monte Carlo Masters, of all things. And, he’s done it three times! I mean, that’s incredible, no? For him to be so friendly and relaxed after was nice, I think.”

You rambled endlessly, the feeling that you’ve talked yourself into a corner flaring at the base of your skull. Charles turned to face you fully, shrugging his suit jacket off and calmly placing it on top of the dresser, rolling up the sleeves of his white dress shirt before he leaned to rest against the furniture as well.

“Ah,” the hair on the nape of your neck rises at the sound, you continue to remove your necklaces with hesitant fingers, “Did he charm you into being your favorite tennis player today, mon amour?”

A humorous scoff escapes your lips, “You know I’m not a fan of tennis. But, if there happens to be a match playing within my view, and he’s playing, I suppose I would want him to win. I wouldn’t say I was ‘charmed,’ I just think he’s a nice man.”

“I think you were too nice to him.”

You slowly place your diamond-studded, golden tennis chain away before your eyes flicker back to meet Charles’ in the reflection of the mirror. You raise a brow, unsure how to respond to his statement. Intelligently, you’ve deduced that he’s jealous, which is odd—considering he’s Charles Leclerc, the prettiest, sweetest, and kindest man on the face of the Earth, in your humble opinion. Stefanos doesn’t hold a candle compared to your boyfriend. Your fingers struggle to undo the clasp of your final necklace; the gold, diamond-paved, Cartier necklace with Charles’ name carved on the back—it was expensive enough that he refused to tell you the price when he gifted it, only saying that “the cost was nothing compared to the love he has for you,” the smooth-talker.

“Arrête,” he speaks firmly, pushing off the dresser and making his way towards you, his dress shoes clicking on the floor sending your heartbeat racing. He stops mere centimeters behind you, the heat of his body radiating against your back.

“Leave it on,” he murmurs, darkened eyes running over your form in the mirror indulgently. 

You do as he says, arms shakily lowering to rest at your sides, fingers tugging at the hem of your sundress as your heart skips and body flushes with heat. The Monegasque reaches around you to center the necklace on your clavicle, the sensation of his fingertips barely ghosting across your brown skin has your mouth parting with an inaudible gasp.

“If only he knew that you wear my name locked around your neck,” the brunette pondered aloud, “Maybe then he would remember that your pretty eyes, sweet giggles, and flirty words are for me—since you seemed to forget.”

“I was not f-flirting with him!” You stutter over the word as if it were an insult.

“You were not,” Charles sounds like he agrees, “But, you know very well that people mistake your kindness as more than that. It’s happened before, no?”

It has happened before. More than you can count. The number of men who mistake politeness and your overall niceness for interest is frightening; you don’t want anybody but Charles.

“What was I supposed to say to Stefanos? Nothing? Should I have just ignored him? And stood at your side quietly like I was just there for decoration?” Your tone peaks with annoyance, heated at the idea of being reduced to an accessory.

“No,” his voice cuts through your train of thought, “You should’ve agreed with me when I mentioned we needed to leave after he said ‘the only thing he’s missing to celebrate is a beautiful woman’ as he stared directly at you—instead of forcing me to stay for another twenty minutes to talk.”

Your mouth drops open disbelievingly, a scoff following a few moments later when you slowly realize that Stefanos wasn’t interested in being set up with one of your friends as he asked. You should’ve known when he asked if you had a twin sister he could meet.

“Okay, in hindsight, I can see that he was flirting,” you clarify, “But, I definitely was not. You know in that entire conversation, I was just being polite—and I made you stay for longer because the Prince wanted to talk to you. Not because I was entertaining a man who doesn’t respect my relationship with you!”

“You were being polite when he kissed your hand?”

“Yes! I thought that was just him laying it on thick?”

“He’s not royalty,” Charles snorts, “The only person allowed to put their lips on you is me.”

“You keep talking about who’s ‘allowed’ to do anything to me and you’ll very quickly find out that I’m ‘allowed’ to reconsider this relationship if you continue speaking about me as if you own me.”

“I don’t own you,” Charles pauses, and a smile spreads across his lips, dimples deepening in his cheeks, nearly forcing you to forget your previous statement as you admire them in the vanity mirror, “But—you own me.”

You turn around quickly at the words, breath stuttering at the lack of space between you two. Tilting your head upwards, you examine your boyfriend’s face with narrowed eyes and cheeks burning so hot the red flush is apparent. His smile has softened to a smirk, his eyebrows laced with a smug undertone, his pupils blown wide enough for you to have to focus to see the green ring around them. You languidly raise a hand to trace a finger across the edge of his jawline, then cupping your hand along the side of his face, gently resting your thumb in the indent of his dimple. Your chest tightens when Charles leans into your palm, slowly shifting to press a kiss on your wrist before nudging you back to holding his face.

Sighing gently, you shake your head, “What do you want from me?”

“Je veux que tu me laisses baiser ma jalousie sur toi, s'il te plaît.”

“S-say it slower please,” you request meekly, “I think I heard you wrong.”

“I want you to let me fuck my jealousy out,” Charles emphasizes each word slowly, his tone becoming teasing as he sees you fluster with each added syllable, “Ple–”

Your lips meet his desperately, your other hand flying upwards to grasp at his shoulder when you feel his laughter through the kiss. You’re sure his amusement is multiplied as you try to dominate the kiss, even as you rise on the tips of your toes and arch your body towards his. Needily, you whine into his mouth as he refuses to meet your rushed rhythm, digging your nails into the meat of his broad shoulders to convey your urgency.

The Monegasques’ hold on your waist turns rough and you pull backward with a gasp when he pinches the skin of your arm. You glower at him in displeasure but it’s quick to fade as he guides you back to his lips with a heavy hand on the nape of your neck. His thumb and pointer finger are weighted from their position at the base of your skull, directing the tilt and movement of your head as he licks into your mouth and bruises your swollen lips further with pressure and stings of teeth.

He walks himself backward, one hand firm on your hip to guide you with him, the other rucking up the skirt of your sundress and sliding underneath to tug your panties down your legs with ease. You kick the fabric off your ankles distractedly, falling to straddle Charles’ lap as soon as he sits on the edge of the bed. His hand slips between the cradle of your thighs, cupping along your warmth and toying within your folds.

“Wet for me already,” he discovers delightedly, breaking the kiss to suck a mark into the sensitive skin behind your left ear and peppering more nips and teases of teeth down the stretch of your neck. Hisses of pleasure slip from your parted lips and you slant your hips forward to guide Charles’ fingers inside. You exhale breathily at the slide of a single finger in your cunt, rolling down onto his hand when you deem his pace too slow.

“Another, please,” you beg, moaning throatily when your boyfriend fulfills your plea without hesitation.

Two fingers turn into three, and three fingers turn into Charles flipping you over and pushing you into the bed so he can hover over you. With rushed hands, you both shove the zipper of his slacks and the hem of his briefs low for him to slip his cock out and press into you. The brunette shudders as he sinks within your depths, falling to his elbows, your moans and gasps of breath spilling into the same pocket of air when his hips rest against the back of your thighs. 

“M-move, please, Cha,” you cry, knees pressing into his sides and body rolling upwards to get a glimpse of friction during his stillness.

Charles drops his head to quiet you with a chaste kiss before matching the rhythm of your rocking hips, his rumbling groans quieted by your lips. He holds himself steady on one arm while he uses the other to reach above your head and drag a pillow downwards, tapping your ass briefly to wordlessly command you into rising upwards as he slips the cushion underneath you. As soon as the pillow is properly positioned, Charles’ slow grinds are exchanged for slamming thrusts, sharp flares of pain-dipped pleasure shooting up your spine and tightening the knot in your navel. Your breath is lost quickly and you struggle to recover, eyes screwing shut and exhales of expletives and whimpers of encouragement are all you can offer.

The Monegasque roughly slides his hand down your leg and grasps you by the ankle digging into the small of his back to keep him close, moving it to rest over his shoulder, and letting his hand fall to squeeze at your thigh for purchase as the change of position tightens the fluttering channel of your cunt around him. This angle feels like he’s digging deeper inside you; one of your hands scrambling to drag your nails down his toned back while the other fists in his hair as you shriek high-pitched into the heated air between your bodies.

“All mine,” you can feel the possessive lilt to his tone rumble through the thin skin of your throat as he sucks along the rapid beat of your pulse. Your nails decorate his back with red scores and it has Charles biting out sharp putain’s and rabbiting his cock into you forcefully, yet remaining conscious enough to realign his thrusts as he bullies his way inside of you to pound against your g-spot. His leaned forward position stretches the limits of your comfortable flexibility, but it allows his pelvis to barely scrape against your clit, sending a wave of overstimulating pleasure to your brain, your eyes rolling as the sensation knocks any form of rational thought from your brain.

He pauses to tug the front of your dress down, the hem tucked under the spill of your breasts. His fingers flick teasingly over a pebbled nipple while he folds himself lower to drag his tongue against the other and nip small marks around your areola. You fight against the assault on your chest; arching your back towards and away from him—chasing and running away from the pleasure simultaneously, yet you continue to grind onto his cock.

“Charles, f-fuck, lemme–uhuh—lemme ride ‘ou,” you whine out incoherently, pushing at his shoulder with a closed fist, hoping he’ll understand your slurred words as your tongue begins to feel heavy.

Your boyfriend pulls away from your breasts in question, panting roughly as he stares up at you to see a pure look of want in your dampened eyes,  lashes clumped together and brown skin flushing deeper when the eye contact is held unendingly. You know that Charles debated denying your request, or at least thought about making you beg for it, but he decides to kneel and drag you upwards into his lap without a fight. He allows you a brief respite to adjust your legs and anchor your arms over his shoulders, then tightens the hold of his hands on your waist, fingertips sure to leave indents as he assists your first upward motion, before solidly dragging you back down. 

The strength you regained in your legs from the short break disappears, knees weakening and body slumping into Charles’ chest, your head drooping to rest in the crook of his neck. 

Charles steadies your head and tilts you back gently, checking in, “Is this too much, mon amour? We can stop.”

“No,” you murmur, “You fucked the feeling out of my legs, Cha.”

He laughs warmly, situating his hands on your ass to direct your motions, the tone of his voice light as he coos, “‘s okay, mon coeur—I’ll do all the work.”

You brush your nose along his, moaning softly at the sweetened drag of his cock. Charles chases your bitten lips, groaning lowly as he deepens his thrusts, fingers dipping to circle your clit—always ensuring your release is prioritized. Your thighs begin to shake and his thrusts skip beats as he begins to near the precipice as well. Shuddering, you gasp into his mouth, attempting to alert him to your nearing orgasm but you’re unable to speak the words.

“It’s okay, mon amour,” your boyfriend soothes, “Cum for me—I’ve got you.”

“yesyesyes,” you babble mindlessly, Charles continuing to pound into you, not slowing the search for his release now that you’re orgasm is imminent. A few well-angled jabs of your g-spot and you’re gone; release frying your nerve endings and vision blurring as your boyfriend continues to ride your high to its very end. 

The Monegasque pulls out the moment your hips fight his hold, dropping his hand drenched with your pleasure from your clit to grab his cock, and with one stroke, he spills. Charles paints your navel and inner thighs white with whimpering moans, and lilted French. He milks himself into over-sensitivity, only stopping when the orgasmic relief shifts into pain. He kisses you on the cheek as he drags a finger through his cum pooled between your thighs. His hand rises to your mouth and he hums approvingly as your lips part and suckle his spend clean off.  

“Hm,” Charles sounds, staring down at the claim he’s spilled, his free hand rubbing his cum along your navel, “All mine.”

© httpsserene2024

[girlgenius1111]

to be worthy.

and impromptu mother's day fic in the sol-verse it's a difficult day. and a weird day. but it's also a day for family, and for people stepping up to take roles they didn't have to. a day for love, really. angst. but also sickeningly fluffy.

You’d never second guessed yourself more than you were in that moment, parked outside the flower shop, watching people enter and exit the building. It was barely 7am, and you had been there for almost a half hour already. Just sitting. Just thinking. 

Mother’s day. It hadn’t ever been your favorite day. No matter what you did or bought or made, your mom was never very happy with you. She didn’t want anything you could give to her. She didn’t even really want you around. She wanted Ingrid with her on the day, and she always made that very clear. 

This year was obviously… very different. Different because you weren’t speaking to your mother, and you didn’t have to get her anything. You didn’t have to write lies down in a card about how much she meant to you, or buy a gift she’d throw out in a few days anyway. You didn’t have to do any of that; there was no pretending this year, and you weren’t really sure what to feel about that. 

It was suddenly a day with no obligations, but then again… not really. Because if anyone in the world deserved to be celebrated it was Ingrid, and it was Mapi. 

Ingrid was your sister. Mapi was your sister's girlfriend. You knew this. It just felt… inexplicably wrong to let the day pass without acknowledging all they had done for you, all they were doing for you. There was no… older-sister-acting-as-your-parental-figure-day. You were left with this sunday in may, a day that already made your heart ache. Now, you were terribly anxious, too. You didn’t want to overstep, nor did you want to… understep? Too little, too much. Not enough.

Logically, you knew that Ingrid and Mapi would probably be completely fine with anything you chose to get them. You weren’t feeling very logical, though, so you grabbed your phone, and called someone you knew would be. 

“Hi älskling,” Frido greeted, suppressing a yawn. It was quite early for her to be answering the phone, but she wasn’t in the business of not answering calls from you. If you were calling, it was important. 

“Frido, does Ingrid like flowers?” You asked, nervously cracking your knuckles. 

“Flowers? Everyone likes flowers, Solstråle. Why?” 

“I just… I wanted to get her and Mapi something, and I don’t know what to get. I don’t want it to be too much or too little, or ugly or stupid or something they don’t like and I don’t want to make them uncomfortable but-”

The words rushed out of your mouth like someone had turned on a faucet, and Frido sighed, now understanding what you were so stressed about. 

“Hey, Solstråle, relax.” She interrupted. “Flowers are good. Ingrid likes daisies I think. And Mapi loves pink roses. It’s not weird, it’s not too much, or too little. They’ll be happy with anything, really. Don’t overthink it.” 

“Right. Okay. Daisies and pink roses. I can do that.” 

“I know today isn’t the easiest for you, but just try to remember-”

“I have to go Frido, sorry. Thank you, I appreciate you.” You said quickly, not really wanting to get into that  at the moment. The Swede sighed, hoping you’d relax a bit as the day went on, and as you got a good reaction to your gift. 

------

Dropping the flowers off at home, along with the cards you’d gotten, and fleeing hadn’t been your best idea in retrospect. The idea of being with them… when they say what you’d gotten for them and when they read their cards… was nauseating. Sickening. Horrifying. You wouldn’t be doing that. 

You set everything up on the counter, grabbed Scout’s leash and Scout himself, and headed out the door, intending to spend the morning at a cafe just down the street. You had your computer and some school work to finish, which seemed like as good of a distraction as any. 

Back home, Ingrid was lying awake in her bed, as she had been for a few hours. It was only when Mapi rolled over into her, her head clunking against Ingrid’s shoulder, that the Norwegian realized it was probably past time to get up. 

“Morning.” Mapi grumbled, pressing a kiss to the skin of her girlfriend’s shoulder. 

“Good morning,” Ingrid replied softly. The single word, dripping with anxiety, was enough for Mapi to lift her head and blink groggily at the other woman. 

“Something wrong?” She asked. 

“It’s mother’s day.” Ingrid whispered, tears inexplicably clouding her vision. Mapi was sitting up in a flash, pulling the younger woman into her chest. Ingrid nuzzled close to the soft t-shirt Mapi was wearing, inhaling the comforting scent of the woman she loved. 

“Mi amor,” Mapi sighed. “I know, it’s a hard one right now. You don’t have to call her, though. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. We can cancel lunch with my mom, stay here with Solstråle. We can pretend it isn’t mothers day.” 

Ingrid shook her head, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve. “No, your mom deserves to be celebrated. We’ll go to lunch. I want to give Solstråle some space today, but I’m worried about her. And I don’t want to call my mom. That would be like… betraying my sister. I don’t want to speak to that woman. She doesn't deserve it.”

“Okay.” Mapi agreed, running her fingers through Ingrid’s thick hair. The Norwegian’s eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, and she relaxed into her girlfriend once again. “We’ll keep an eye on our Sol, and we’ll be quick at lunch. And you can have as many hugs as you want.” 

“Can’t I always?” Ingrid asked with a small smile. 

“You have a point.” Mapi chuckled. “I am going to go make you a coffee, be right back.” 

With that, she rose from the bed, pressing a quick kiss to Ingrid’s lips, heading for the kitchen. Ingrid stayed in bed, worrying about you and how you’d act today, until she heard Mapi call out for her in a strangely choked voice. She was out of bed within a second, rushing down the hall towards her girlfriend. 

“What?! What is it?!” Ingrid shouted, sliding in her socks on the wood floor into the kitchen, looking around frantically. 

She saw Mapi first, staring with tears in her eyes at a little card that had the Spaniard’s name on it. She saw the two vases next, sitting precisely in the middle of the counter. One with daisies, one with pink roses. There was a card with Ingrid’s name on it on the counter, too, and it wasn’t hard for Ingrid to connect the dots. Her first concerns were with her girlfriend, though, who’s lip was wobbling dangerously, as she blinked rapidly down at the card in her hand. 

“María?” Ingrid murmured. “Baby, are you-?”

Mapi blindly reached a hand out towards Ingrid, a hand that the Norwegian took. Gently, Ingrid rubbed her girlfriend’s back, reading the card over her shoulder when Mapi tilted it slightly in her direction. 

María,

It’s mother’s day, and it didn’t feel right to let today go by without telling you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. You allowed me into your home without a second thought. You met my stubbornness and hostility with love and kindness, and I will forever be grateful to you for that. You love Ingrid so deeply, and I couldn’t wish for a better partner for my sister. I think I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to be as good of a person as you are. I hope you like your flowers, and I hope you know how much you mean to me.

Love, Solstråle.

By the time Ingrid had finished reading, Mapi had turned in her arms, burying her face in the crook of Ingrid’s neck, and was sobbing quietly. They were happy tears, Ingrid realized. Emotional, but happy. Ingrid couldn’t do much but hold Mapi tightly to her, and press kisses into the top of her head. 

“She means every word, you know? And she’s right. You are the best person I know, the kindest, the most loving. You deserve the flowers, María.” 

That set off another round of tears, bringing a small laugh out of Ingrid, always astounded and impressed by how emotionally… healthy her girlfriend was. 

“Damn you Engens. Making me cry.” Mapi huffed, using Ingrid’s shirt to wipe her tears away. 

Ingrid took her girlfriend’s face in her hands, carefully kissing her lips. “Because we love you very much.” 

“Cut it out, Ingrid.” Mapi complained, though she was smiling shyly. “Open your card, I want you to cry.” 

Ingrid laughed, reaching for her own card, though she hesitated before opening it. Mapi had moved to get the coffees going, but turned to glance at Ingrid when she fell silent. 

“Open it.” Mapi encouraged, turning away to give Ingrid space to read. 

It was another little card, in your big handwriting, a bit longer than Mapi’s. Ingrid took a deep breath, trying to stave off tears before she even started reading. 

Ingrid,

Mother’s day is weird now. It kind of always has been, but I’m sure it’s weird for you now, too. I hope today isn’t too difficult for you. You are a lot more to me than a sister. I’ve always looked up to you, always seen you as a role model. And I still feel that way. Now, though, you’ve taken me in and been so patient with me. More patient than I deserve. I feel safe here, with you. For the first time in a really long time. Safe and loved, in a way I had kind of forgotten existed. Ingrid, you changed my life. You saved my life, too. I’ve never felt very worthy of love or care, but it’s so readily available here. And if someone as good as you thinks that I am worthy of your love, your time, your attention, then I must be. At least a little bit. There aren’t enough flowers in the world to express how thankful I am for everything you’ve done for me. Thank you Ingrid. Really, just thank you. I love you very much, even if I don’t always show it or say it. 

Love, Solstråle. 

And now Ingrid was crying, and Mapi was abandoning the coffee to pull her into a tight hug, and you were walking in through the front door at just the perfect time. You had just barely unclipped Scout’s harness before you were being forcibly pulled upright into some kind of suffocating group hug.

And normally, something like this would have probably made you uncomfortable. You felt yourself melting into the hug, though, before you really knew what you were doing. Embarrassment flooded you. Regret flooded you. Because even though the hug was nice, you felt dangerously exposed. Dangerously vulnerable. 

------

You insisted that Ingrid and Mapi go to lunch with Mapi’s parents and her brother, without you. Both girls tried to explain, while respecting your privacy as much as possible, why you had stayed home, although Mapi’s mother was rather insistent that she wanted you at lunch, too. You were part of the family, after all. 

It was only when you were home alone, curled up on the couch with Scout, that the reality really hit, that questions you didn’t want to consider really started to flood into your brain. 

Had they really liked the flowers? The cards? There wasn’t much time to talk, as they’d had to get ready for lunch, and both of them had clearly been crying. Maybe… maybe they didn’t really like what you had to say? Maybe you were putting pressure on them to be something they weren’t. It was so easy for you to spiral into self doubt when you were left to your own devices. 

Should you have called your mom? 

No matter how much time passed. No matter how many times Ingrid and Mapi told you that you hadn’t done anything wrong, that she had been the issue. You were pretty sure you’d always blame yourself, at least a little. You’d spent so long thinking you were at fault, and that kind of thinking was hard to break out of. Knowing that you weren’t to blame, and really believing it were two different things. And something was easier about blaming yourself. Safer. 

Maybe you should have called. Maybe you should take the first step. She was your mother, after all, and you only had one. You couldn’t help the guilt that began to suffocate you, the insecurity, the self hatred. 

You wished you could just hear Ingrid and Mapi tell you that they loved you, that you were a good person, and believe it. You were kind of afraid, though, that you’d never fully believe that. 

The best thing to do, the most logical thing, was to shut yourself in your room for the rest of the day. So you took Scout and some snacks and buried yourself under as many blankets as you could, tucked away in your room. A closed door between you, and the avalanche of emotions and feelings you’d let out earlier in your cards. 

Too vulnerable. You’d been too vulnerable, and there was no taking it back, and that was terrifying. Being vulnerable in the first place wasn’t easy, but not wanting to die afterwards was even harder. 

-------

Ingrid and Mapi returned from lunch to find the house dead silent. Your bedroom door was tightly shut, and when Ingrid peaked her head in, you had been pretending to be asleep. So, she headed for the living room, tucking herself into the corner of the couch, thought after thought running through her head. 

Had she been too emotional with you earlier? Had you not really meant what you’d said in your letter? Were you just trying to be nice? Ingrid had learned not to push you before you were ready for something, and she felt like today, she had. She should have played it cooler, not made it as big of a deal. 

And, fuck, she should have called her mom. 

She shouldn’t have, but she should have, and there was no correct answer in her head. Either decision made her feel like she was being bad. A bad daughter or a bad sister. 

And now she was being a bad girlfriend, because Mapi had been trying to get her attention for several minutes, and she’d been too spaced out to notice. 

“Ingrid!” Mapi said again, this time reaching out to grab onto her girlfriend’s hand and squeezing. 

“Sorry, sorry. I was distracted.” Ingrid said. “What?”

“I checked on Sol. She seems upset. You should go up there and talk to her.” 

“No, no, today has been a lot for her, she has to process her emotions.” Ingrid said, shaking her head. “She doesn’t want to see me right now.”

Mapi resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Honestly. The two of you were both hyper aware of the others’ feelings while simultaneously being too afraid to actually talk about said feelings. You needed each other, today, and Mapi was done trying to get you to figure that out yourselves. 

“Enough of this. Vamos.” She stated decisively, standing up from the couch, grabbing Ingrid’s hand and pulling. Ingrid groaned her annoyance, but went somewhat willingly.

Mapi dragged her up the stairs, knocking on your door before entering upon your response. You were still on your bed, trying to hide the evidence of your almost constant tears, when Mapi entered the room with Ingrid in tow. 

“Alright. Both of you need the other right now. Sol, Ingrid isn’t mad at you. Ingrid, Sol isn’t mad at you. Everything is fine. Stop overthinking.” And with that, paired with a small shove to Ingrid’s back, pushing the Norwegian in your direction, Mapi looked between you two expectantly. 

You looked very cautiously, but also somewhat hopefully, up at your sister. 

Ingrid looked at you similarly, taking a hesitant step closer to the bed. “What do you need, Solstråle?” She asked, determined, at least, that you get better about asking for what you needed. If it was space, she'd respect that. And if it was a hug? Well. Good. Because she really needed one too.

You shifted slightly, lifting one of your arms in a half gesture. “Sit with me?” You requested. 

Relief flooded Ingrid’s face as she all but launched herself onto the bed next to you, instantly pulling you into a tight hug. You were relieved, too, that you hadn’t been too much for either of them. That your love in return wasn’t too much. Your mom had always made you feel like it was suffocating, the way you tried to get her to pay attention to you and love you.

Ingrid and Mapi never did that. They just… gave you what you needed, without a second thought. Before anything else. As you sat squished in between the two of them, listening to all the details from the lunch you’d skipped, you realized that all you’d needed today was Ingrid. Being with Ingrid and Mapi made your head go quiet. There wasn’t room for doubt when they were on either side of you. Mapi trying ridiculously hard to make you laugh. Ingrid combing her fingers through your hair without a second thought. 

You fit here, in this family. With them. They told you you fit, that you were wanted, and that was something that was getting more and more believable as time went on. You had a family, and even if you didn’t really have a mother to celebrate today, you had two people who put you before anything else. People that loved you more than your mother had. You had a family, again. And that was really something to celebrate. 

------

:) happy mothers day to everyone who celebrates, and to everyone that doesn't.

however you feel is valid. if today is hard, or if today is easy, there will always be tomorrow, and tomorrow will be even better.

<3

[sugoi-and-spice]

Taking Care, Taking What's Mine - A "Play Nice" Commission

Summary: A Play Nice AU Chapter, in which, rather than taking the high road and trying to build a real relationship with the girl he's been sextorting for weeks, Tomura Shigaraki baby-traps her instead.

CW: Quirkless!AU, Dub-Con, Smut, Extortion, Baby-Trapping, Forced Pregnancy, Love-Bombing, Manipulation, Power Play, Possessive Shigaraki, Yandere Shigaraki, Morning Sickness, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

AO3 Link

A/N: Happy fucking Father's Day readers!! Lmao! I got this AMAZING commission a while ago to write an AU of my AU (a fanfic writer's dream come true honestly), of Shigaraki baby-trapping MC and well, while it took longer then I meant it to to come out, I'm so glad that I could post it on Father' Day of all days lmao.

Anyway though, this was so much fun to write. Shigaraki has been on the journey of bettering himself for so long in Play Nice now, it was a total blast returning to form and writing him nice and scummy again.

I'd love to do more of these honestly, so as a reminder: I give discounts on Commissions that take place in my AU's.

Play Nice, Burnt Bridges, Step by Step -- all of them. They're super fun for me to write and most of the heavy-lifting of ideating and plotting has already been done for them, so I'm happy to write fics like this for cheaper. :)

Anyway, enjoy some forced parentification on this day of dads. xD

“Hey, hey— are you alright?”

She lifted her head from where she’d been resting it against her gym locker, the coolness of the metal being the first thing to even remotely ease the headache she’d been fighting for the last three days. 

“Yeah, of course,” she tried to force a weak smile as Nejire approached her, clearly concerned, “Why do you ask?

The captain was dressed in her practice suit. And she quickly realized that so were all the other girls, most of them already making their way out the doors to the pool deck. She was the lone straggler who hadn’t even managed to undo her uniform tie yet. Nejire looked over at these girls, and then back to her, wordlessly demonstrating why that should be obvious.

She laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of her head, “Okay, I guess I’m feeling a bit under the weather today…”

And that was the understatement of the century. She felt like absolute shit . Piling on top of that stubborn pounding in her head were a pair of really sore tits, a lethargy that stuck with her no matter how much vending machine coffee she chugged, and cramps that had shot straight out of hell and directly into her uterus.

But to be honest, she couldn’t complain too much about these ailments. In fact, she was pretty damn relieved. These were all her tell-tale signs of PMS. They were a little worse than usual this time around sure, but if that was the tradeoff for the relief of not being pregnant, she’d take it in a heartbeat. Her period was only one day late at this point and it had all but paralyzed her with fear.

Of course in retrospect, the fear did seem a bit silly. After all, Shigaraki’s creepy family doctor had warned her there might be some changes.

“I never start patients new to birth control immediately on a Long Acting Reversible Contraception,” he explained, “Especially not teenagers.”

“Why not?” she demanded, “It’s reversible, right? It’s not like you’re tying my tubes or anything.”

“No, but you never know how your body is going to react to the hormonal shift. You could develop acne, weight gain, hair growth—”

“I don’t care about that superficial stuff.”

“... Migraines, blood clots, depression,” he continued, looking at her pointedly.

She looked away, feeling a bit stupid for interrupting him now that he’d listed the more serious side-effects.

“I’m not saying you have to stay on the pill forever. But give it a few months, see how you feel on it. It can help us better determine which long-term birth control is best for your body without any unnecessarily invasive procedures.”

She shuddered at the very thought of being stuck in this set-up with Shigaraki for months. She hoped he’d get bored of her sooner rather than later.

Well, on the brightside, at least this sketchy-ass doctor seemed to be as interested in looking under her skirt as she was having him down there. However, this still left the ever so pertinent issue of:

“Okay, but there’s still the issue of getting the pills. No pharmacy is going to give me these without signed parental consent.” She had the always convenient Japanese purity culture to thank for that.

Ujiko simply smiled and pulled out a wheel of birth control pills from his medical bag right then and there.

“Consider these the same as this appointment,” he said, cupping his hands over hers and placing the wheel firmly into her palm, “ Off the record. ”

And then the rest of the “appointment” had descended into one of extremely thinly-veiled intimidation that bizarrely enough, she’d relied on Shigaraki of all people to save her from. By that point, she’d been scared so shitless she had very little argument left in her to try and reason him into just giving her the damn IUD.

The regret of not standing her ground on the issue did hit her later that night on the train home. Particularly when she thought over the fact that the way they were keeping these pills off the record was by having her pick up her refills through Shigaraki. The idea of giving him even more power over her like that made her feel sick to her stomach. And yes, while logically she knew that he had just as much motivation to keep her from getting pregnant as she did (she had a feeling All for One would not take too kindly to his star successor knocking up a lowly commoner such as herself), she still just had a bad feeling about the whole thing.

So she’d resolved herself on her first refill day to completely lay into Shigaraki for any level of tomfoolery he may get up to in this situation. There would be no forgetting, no being too busy to pick up the pills for her, absolutely nothing. She was ready to rain full fire and brimstone on him if there was even a hint of bullshit.

But to her surprise (and relief), she hadn’t even crossed the threshold of his bedroom before he was tossing a new pack to replace her wheel with. Simple and nonchalant, and then he was just as quick as always to badger her about getting her clothes off already, get on the bed already, break up with your boyfriend already.

It was the same old, same old — for better or for worse. Even if she couldn’t trust Tomura Shigaraki himself, that action had at least ensured that she could trust his own desire for self-preservation.

And that was better than nothing she supposed.

Back in the locker room, Nejire asked her, “Do you think you’re coming down with something?”

She smiled at her friend, joking, “Nothing I don’t come down with every month.”

Nejire tilted her head in confusion for a moment before the lightbulb visibly lit up in her head.

“Ohhhhh,” Nejire nodded sympathetically, “Yeah, Aunt Flow can be a real meanie sometimes, huh?”

She laughed, then winced as the action worsened the throbbing in her head,  “Damn it— you can say that again.”

Nejire’s brows furrowed and she brought a hand to the small of her friend’s back, “Hey, why don’t you take this afternoon off?”

She looked back to her, surprised, “Oh no, I couldn’t…”

“Sure you could!” Nejire chirped, “And honestly, you probably should. We’re working on our weakest strokes today. I had you down to work on your fly.”

Visible dread filled her as she thought about doing that much undulation in her current state.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Nejire laughed, “Seriously, go home. We’ll miss you, but we love you too. So we want you to take care of yourself.”

She debated a little more internally, one other loose thread dropping into her mind’s eye.

“If I do… Do you mind—”

“I’ll let Mirio know,” she shot her a wink as she clarified, “ After practice. I’ll let him know you just need the peace and quiet.”

She smiled at Nejire, genuinely grateful. This. This right here was what made all of the bending over backwards she did to fit in and please others worth it. To be cared about by such a good person. 

The warmth of that care stayed with her all the way out to the school gates, where she was then immediately filled with dread upon realizing that she’d need to go in one of two directions depending on where she was going after school: the train station home, or the walk to Shigaraki’s.

And just which direction she was scheduled to go today.

She let out a long groan, anguished and loud enough to startle a couple members of the going home club that passed her. For once though, she didn’t care about her reputation, she was too focussed on what a goddamn nightmare she was falling into.

She pulled out her cellphone with a sigh. Yes she knew the effort was probably futile, but damn her if she didn’t at least try.

Yup. She could’ve seen that coming from a mile away. She sighed as she shoved her phone back into her bag and started the very slow trek over to Shigaraki’s. 

“Wow, you weren’t kidding,” Shigaraki said as he looked her over his doorway, “You look like shit.”

She shot him a wholly unimpressed look as she shoved past him into his bedroom.

“Yeah, I fucking told you.” 

Shigaraki, surprisingly, didn't have anything to say about her tone, even with her brusqueness towards him being more than usual. He just watched her drop down face first onto his bed and curl her legs up into her chest.

She sighed at the slight relief the position gave her. While dealing with Shigaraki’s antics was about the last thing she wanted right now, she supposed that at least she could be grateful for how much closer his apartment was to her school then her own home was. It saved her a good fifty-minutes of white-knuckling a train stanchion to keep down her groans of pain. Now at least she could get the relief of laying down much sooner.

If only for a little bit.

“What’s going on?”

She bristled at Shigaraki’s voice, the unwelcome reminder that she wasn’t going to be able to truly relax right now. And while there didn’t seem to be any entendre or even impatience in his question, the fact that his voice was getting closer to her was enough to make her suspicious.

“My head aches, my back aches, my boobs ache — everything aches,” she grumbled down into his sheets, “And I feel like I’ve been donkey-kicked straight in the uterus.”

“You start your period or something?”

He didn’t sound sarcastic when he asked it, not that typical boy way of asking any time a girl did something they considered “moody”. It was a genuine question. But it irritated her all the same. 

Everything seemed to be irritating her these days.

“About to,” she answered, “It’s like a day late, but it’s definitely coming.”

She felt the bed shift a bit as he sat next to her.

“Are you nauseous at all?”

Her brows furrowed, a bit confused by the interest.

“I guess a little,” she answered, because even though it was mild, there was a certain turn in her stomach that wasn’t unlike motion sickness, “But honestly, I think it’s just from the pain. This has been going on for like three days.”

“Have you taken anything for it?”

She could’ve laughed if she wasn’t so annoyed by the reminder of all her futile attempts to alleviate this. Because of course he was looking for a quick fix so they could fuck already.

“I’ve taken everything for it,” she groaned, “Nothing’s working.”

He just hummed in response, and then she could feel the sheets behind her dip a bit as he repositioned himself. Into what orientation, she wasn’t sure. She was about to turn her head back and ask him what he was doing when she felt his hand featherlight across her hip.

And between her legs.

“No, Shigaraki please,” she whined, pulling he knees closer into her chest, “I’m not kidding, I’m seriously in a lot of pain—”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Tell that to your hand then,” she snapped as his fingers tried to wiggle their way between her clenched thighs.

“I mean I’m not doing anything for me. This is for you.”

“Oh is it now,” she deadpanned.

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he insisted, more irritably this time, “Orgasms help with cramps, right?”

She stilled, sufficiently stumped by that particular statement. Because yes, she could say from experience that they absolutely did. She’d spent many a nasty period with her fingers latched to clit to chase that particular path of relief. 

…but why the hell did Shigaraki know that?

She gasped as she suddenly felt the gentle roll of her clit under three fingers. Apparently, in her moments of distracted deliberation, Shigaraki managed to push his hand past the plush lock of her thighs and under the hem of her panties.

“Sh-Shigaraki…” she whined, pushing her elbow blindly and weakly back towards him.

He caught it gently in his free palm and, rather than trying to pin or strain it in whatever which way he desired, like usual, he just held it there. Didn’t even hold it in place really, just shielded himself against its determined path towards his ribs.

“I’m serious,” he said, uncharacteristically soft, “I’m trying to help you.”

She finally mustered up the strength to — despite how much her aching abdomen hated her for it — turn and glower at Shigaraki.

“No funny business?” she pressed.

He settled his own flat expression on her, “When have I ever been funny?”

More times than she’d like to admit honestly, but she got what he was saying here. He was a pretty serious, straightforward person on principle. He didn’t bullshit, he didn’t pull cheap tricks, and, shockingly enough, he didn’t typically lie. Frustrating as it was, Tomura Shigaraki was pretty much always unapologetically himself and he always did what he wanted.

So if he said that he was doing this to help her, then she supposed that she didn't actually have a lot of reason to distrust him.

Plus, his fingers hadn’t stopped their soft, but affective ministrations between her legs, and the pleasant sparks of heated relief they were sending through her were undeniable.

She turned back onto her side with a sigh that was half-exasperation, half pleasure.

“Fine,” she said, throwing back quickly before he got too victorious, “But fuck around and I’ll kick you.”

Shigaraki just chuckled, a soft throaty sound that shouldn’t have sent the chills up her spine that it did, “Yeah, yeah…”

In one motion, careful not to jostle her too much, Shigaraki both pulled her back and scooched himself closer, until her back was nestled snug against his surprisingly firm chest and her head laid in the crux of his bicep.

With this new closeness he was able to be a bit more deliberate with the angle and pressure he used to rub at her swollen sex. And, while she hated to admit it, the increased blood flow between her legs was causing the pressure within her to build quite a bit faster than usual. Enough so that it had her letting go of the tension in her neck and joints — the automatic stress reaction she had to any of Shigaraki’s displays of intimacy — and letting the weight of her head drop fully into his embrace.

A shuddering sigh left Shigaraki at that clear relinquishing of control, of the way she truly let herself lay back and relax into him. It gave him the encouragement he needed to enjoy her to the fullest extent that he wanted her as well, burying his nose deep into her hair. 

He started to stroke wider circles around her, the flats of his fingers never leaving her clit, but now allowing the tips to dip softly into her entrance. He didn’t push them in at all past his first knuckles, just enough to catch some of that growing wetness and spread it all across her fluttering lips.

“A-Ah—” she gasped out, “Sh-shit…”

“Like that?” he rasped, hot against her ear.

She bit her lip, nodding needily, “Mm— Mm-hmm…”

He groaned at the response, doubling down on that motion as he started to stud long, hot kisses down the back of her jaw and neck. The feeling, so gentle and intimate and good in combination to the way he worked her sex, had her unconsciously rocking her hips into his touch, and back into his own.

Vaguely through the haze, she could feel the familiar outline of his stiff cock against the cleft of her ass, but shockingly he didn’t try to grind it against her for relief. If anything actually, when her own hips moved unconsciously back against it, he actually shifted his own hips away, anglind them down so his erection pushed into the bed instead. As if he didn’t want her to feel it, that he was concerned about her feeling pressured by its presence.

She didn’t have the chance to think too much into that though, not when his fingers were coaxing her closer to the edge by the second. The mess between her legs was obscene at this point, through teary eyes she could see the overflow of it spreading wide across her thighs and pooling down in the sheets. 

“God look at you, so fucking wet,” he groaned, lips having made it down to her shoulder and staying there so that he could have a better view of her writhing under his touch, “You needed this, huh? Fucking needed me…”

She buried her face into his arm to muffle her moans, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of an answer, but also not wanting him to stop.

By some act of God, Shigaraki didn’t push for that answer either. She wasn’t sure why he’d abandoned his typical demands and taunts, didn’t threaten to stop until she gave him the verbal submission and begrudging praise he always wanted. Nor did she stop to think about why, she just let the gratitude course through her, spurred further and wider by the waves of heat rushing through her body, threatening — promising — to overflow.

Shigaraki could feel that axiomatic tension in her body, the boiling point it promised, and sped up his hand to stoke the flames.

“You’re close aren’t you? Oh yeah, you’re close…” his kisses turned to nips at her neck between progressively more demanding growls, “Gonna be a good girl and come for me?”

Fuck, hearing those last words spill from his mouth should not have done what it was doing to her. But it was speeding up her peak, and it was speeding it up audibly.

“Yeah, yeah that’s good, really good. Let it go. Go ahead, be a good girl and let it go.”

She cried out, her arching back forcing her face forward and mouth unmuffled as finally, finally her body went blissfully loose, the pain of the past few days overtaken by waves of heat and pleasure. One after the other, her hormone-driven sensitivity wrung out multiple orgasms, and his frantic fingers were happy to work her through each one until she was begging him to stop.

“Good girl, yeah, yeah, just like that. That’s a good girl,” he continued to praise, returning time and again to that phrase he could feel her getting unconsciously excited over, “That’s my good girl…”

It was just a few blurry moments of consciousness after that. She was pretty sure she whined something like “too much” to him at some point, and he whispered back something that she was sure was just utterly debauched right back. Or maybe it was sweet nothings, he had really favored those by the end of this escapade after all. 

Whatever it all was, she supposed it didn’t matter. All that mattered in those seconds of labored breaths and fluttering lashes was the beautiful bliss and relief that finally overtook her body. That allowed her to immediately fall asleep in his arms.

Shigaraki held her there for a long time after. He raked his eyes greedily across her body, letting himself carve every detail deep into his memory. He knew he didn’t need to, not anymore. Her boyfriend, her parents, hell, whether or not she got into Todai with him, it was all a non-issue now. There was no reason for him to lose this anymore. She wasn’t going anywhere in life without him. He was going to be able to revel in this sight for the rest of his life now. And he just couldn’t believe how lucky he was for that.

He chuckled a bit at that. Well, maybe lucky wasn’t the right word. This was all by design after all, weeks of very deliberate planning and deception. It was just like he’d always been taught. It didn’t matter what hand you’ve been dealt — and Tomura Shigaraki had certainly been dealt a shit hand in a lot of ways — a real winner made his own luck. 

Sensei would be mad, Shigaraki knew that much. Everyone would be mad in fact, but he didn’t care. He was just following the fundamental lesson Sensei himself had instilled in him the day they met. 

Take whatever you want, and fuck all the rest.

Several minutes into hearing those sweet deep breaths of unconsciousness from the beautiful girl in his arms, Shigaraki finally peeled his fingers away from her cunt.

And slid a wide hand up to cradle her tummy.

It was dark when she woke up, not a single one of Shigaraki’s many monitors or television lit the windowless room. That was odd for a couple of reasons, the first of which being that the overhead lighting had definitely been on when she’d dozed off. The second of which was that any time Shigaraki wasn’t preoccupied with helping her study or studying her, he was chronically attached to at least one screen, if not multiple, so it was more than a bit odd for him to have zero on. The reason for the lack of blue light however became quickly apparent as her eyes finally adjusted to the darkness.

Shigaraki wasn’t here.

She was totally alone in his room, alone and tucked into his bed. Had he gone to the bathroom or something? But then why would all the lights be off? It seemed like he’d probably been gone for a while. Weird…

She threw off the covers and flipped her legs around with much more ease than she’d done anything over the last three days, much to her relief. However long she’d been out, the sleep had clearly done her some good. The pounding in her head and pelvis had finally ceased, perhaps just in time for her to actually start her period. She did feel some dampness between her legs after all. Although…

Her face heated up as she remembered the much more likely cause of that.

Damn it, she thought with a groan, dropping her head into her hands. She couldn’t believe that she actually let him do that to her, for her. He was going to get entirely the wrong idea from it. The idea that she might actually like him and want to spend time with him, that there was some kind of connection between them that extended past the time she was required to spend with him to keep him satisfied. And she absolutely could not deal with that.

Being his little sex toy was one thing. A demoralizing thing, yes, but a manageable one. She’d seen the way Shigaraki treated things he objectified — games and magazines and the like. He got bored of them quickly. And if she was one of those things in his eyes, then eventually he’d get bored with her too and she’d be free.

If he was attached to her though? Had found connection in her and a desire to keep her in his life? She didn’t even want to consider that nightmare scenario.

She made her way out into the hallway, looking up and down from the empty bathroom on one end of the hall to the top of the staircase on the other. She didn’t have to contemplate the lack of presence on this floor for long though, when she heard Shigaraki’s voice echoing up from downstairs, talking emphatically to Kurogiri, she assumed. 

She couldn’t hear exactly what he was talking about, but whatever it was, he was being particular about it. “Don’t overcook” and “perfect” were a few of the words she managed to catch, so it was about food, maybe? The accompanying sounds of sizzling pans and clanking cookware would certainly support that. As would the smell that suddenly hit her.

It wasn’t an unpleasant smell by any means. In fact, it was salmon, one of her favorites. But for some reason at that moment, the smell hit her with a particular intensity that made her feel overwhelmed.

And really fucking nauseous.

She just barely made it to the toilet at the end of the hall, not even fully down to her knees by the time she was emptying her stomach into the bowl. It wasn’t just a brief moment of sickness either. The bouts were loud and long, she was sure that it echoed throughout the entire apartment. It left her red-faced, skin covered and hair clumped with sweat, not to mention still gagging long after she had nothing left to gag on.

A hand she barely even noticed came to rest on the small of her back in the midst of it all. It was only in the aftermath, spent and dry-heaving that she could process the fact that it was Shigaraki, kneeling at her side, patiently stroking small circles into her clammy skin and encouraging her softly.

“Let it out. Just let it all out.”

She groaned once she finally seemed to have a solid thirty seconds of dry, steady breath. And Shigaraki used that respite to nudge a glass of water into her hands.

“Here.”

She didn’t argue or agree, just took it from him with shaky hands, tossing half of it just into her mouth to swish around and spit the remaining bitterness from her tongue.

 “Drink some of it too.”

She nodded shakily, still too drained and disoriented to be irritated with his telling her what to do, or suspicious of the fact that he was being so nice. 

And still, as she took entirely too long to finish the rest of her water with timid little sips, he just knelt on the ground with her, moving the hand on her back to rest on her knee, thumb rubbing circles into the spot where a bruise would undoubtedly form. 

Finally, after a long, silent stretch, she managed to croak out, “W-What time is it?”

“Only seven,” he answered, “Kurogiri’s got dinner almost ready downstairs. Seared salmon, brown rice, avocado salad—”

She whined, shaking her head roughly at the very implication of food.

“Don’t like salmon?”

“I-I do… It’s just—” she gagged a little as she remembered that smell that had set this all off in the first place, “Th-The smell right now. It’s too much…”

“Oh yeah…” he nodded understandingly, muttering something to himself that she couldn’t quite make out. It sounded kind of like, “Heightened” and “Read about that…”

Her brows furrowed a bit, frustrated and confused. She was getting the feeling that he was really not telling her something.

“W-What?”

Shigaraki just waved her off, “No, that’s fine, that’s fine. Salmon’s not the only thing he made. There’s sauteed spinach, wakame tofu soup, toasted—” 

Jesus Christ, was Kurogiri cooking for an army down there or something? 

Well, whoever it was all for, and as delicious as it all sounded in theory, imagining those foods in practice right now was making her feel sick all over again.

“Mm-mm, Mm-mm!” she whined, shaking her head again.

She didn’t want to risk opening her mouth right now, lest she blow chunks all over the front of Shigaraki’s shirt. Although wouldn’t that be a nice little serving of karma for him…

“You need to eat something,” he insisted, more lecturey than she’d ever heard him, but with a strange gentleness to his voice as well, “And you need to drink some more too. You’re totally dehydrated.”

She shook her head more emphatically at that, which only resulted in her falling forward into his chest. 

He caught her before she could fall any further, scolding her not too harshly, in fact, a bit whimsically, “Is this how you’re gonna be the whole time?”

She pulled her head back to look at him, a confused furrow in her brows that brought the corners of his lips up.

“It’s not a bad look on you to be honest. All weak and petulant,” he brought a hand to pinch lightly at her cheek, “It’s kinda cute actually.”

Her eyes narrowed, finally feeling her stomach steady enough in her to be annoyed. He chuckled, just as amused and endeared by this look as the last. 

“Well how about okayu?” he offered with a patronizing little lilt, “And maybe some ginger tea?”

He clearly wasn’t going to let this go. And infuriatingly, he was right not to. She definitely was in no shape to go home on this empty stomach. 

She sighed.

“Yeah… Yeah okay.”

Going at her own shaking, snailish pace, Shigaraki helped her up onto her legs, pulling her immediately into his side as he led her back towards his bedroom. Normally she’d protest, stick an elbow right into his ribs and storm on ahead of him, but honestly she needed the help right now. So she sucked it up and let him lead her back into his bed. 

But that didn’t stop her from eying him suspiciously as he propped his pillows up behind her and tucked her back in under his comforter, the overall way he doted and fretted over her, even stopping to look back at her one more time from the doorway before he returned downstairs to give Kurogiri the new marching orders.

She dropped her head back against the pillows when finally alone, a bad feeling settling heavier and heavier in her stomach. This was beyond weird, the way he was acting. Sure, the guy was overbearing and constantly demanding of her attention, stupidly needy even. But doting? Not only willing but eager to put her needs ahead of his own? Caring deeply about her actual well-being and not just what he wanted to be her well-being? This was all way too out of character for him.

“…You can tell me. If he bothered you, I mean. N-Not just the Doctor either… If um… If anything’s bothering you.”

She sighed at the memory. Alright, maybe she wasn’t giving him enough credit. He’d shown at least some capability and even interest in her wants and well-being, he wasn’t a complete monster.

But still, all of this? The cooing and the caring and the, erm, servicing even that he’d done? It felt like too much. Like she was missing something really key about it all.

Like something was wrong .

Whether she ended up getting lost in that train of thought for long, or Kurogiri had already had some okayu whipped up downstairs, she wasn’t sure, but she was startled by how quickly it seemed that Shigaraki returned with a breakfast tray in hand. She cocked her head as he set it up over her lap, this was a lot more robust than she was expecting, and, she realized as she examined everything on the tray, a lot more stocked as well.

There was okayu, front and center for her, yes. But also on the tray was another small bowl of soup (looked like the wakame that Shigaraki had mentioned, a thing of plain yogurt (the really fancy kind that came in the glass jars), a glass of orange juice…

And a little dish of four pills. 

Painkillers or antiemetics maybe? They looked more like vitamins…

“Go ahead and start with the okayu if you want,” Shigaraki explained as he climbed up into the bed next to her, “But I want you to try and get some of the wakame and yogurt down too…”

As he settled down, his legs flush with her own, he continued to rattle off instructions and explanations for the rest of her tray, sending her mind completely spinning, faster and faster, like a goddamn Gravitron.

And she was ready to get the fuck off.

“...if nothing else though, take the vitamins. You need the folate, calcium, iron, and the omega-3 especially, since you don’t want the salmon—”

“Okay, stop, stop, stop !”

Shigaraki paused, having the audacity to look at her like she was crazy for snapping. 

“Jesus—what the hell are you even talking about Shigaraki?!” she demanded, “What’d you say, folate? What? What is all this?”

He cocked his head, clearly playing innocent. Whatever this was, he was clearly enjoying the slow unraveling of it all.

“What’re you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about!” she snapped, “All this attention and doting and food stuff! What the hell is this all about?!”

He just smiled back at her, taking in how pretty she looked, even when mad (especially when mad sometimes), God, to think that this really was his forever now. He wondered if they had a girl, how much she’d look like her. He hoped a lot…

“I just want to make sure you’re getting all the vitamins and nutrients you need…”

He reached over then, spreading his hand flat against her stomach.

“ Both of you .”

She froze.

No.

No, he couldn’t mean—

She tried to speak, tried to ask what the ever-loving- fuck he was talking about, but her mouth had seemed to go dry. She tried several times to open and wet it a bit, but every time she did, it felt like her throat was closing too. It took at least four desperate attempts for her to finally force out one rasped:

“... what? ”

Shigaraki’s grin widened, and he started to rub circles gently across her belly.

“You’re gonna look so cute, all big and round with my kid,” he giggled suddenly as he remembered something, “Oh, and your tits too. I wonder how big they’re gonna get…”

She stared at him, unblinking, unbreathing. Everything but un-fucking-existing.

He couldn’t be serious. He was fucking with her. He had to be fucking with her!

“Th-That’s not funny.”

His grin evened a little, not disappearing outright, but settling away some of its blissful excitement into something more coyly victorious.

“I said it already,” he reminded, “When have I ever been funny?”

She shook her head in disbelief.

“N-No. No, no, no this isn’t— there’s no way—”

“I’ve got the tests ready when you need to pee, but I think it’s pretty clear. These are all the symptoms I read about.”

“No!” she insisted, “N-No, no— this is, it’s my period! It’s just a day late, it’s not—!”

He chuckled, “I know the symptoms can be similar, but come on. When’s the last time you’ve hurled like that thanks to your period? And the sensitivity to smell? You know this is different.”

Crumbling, every argument she could possibly think of was crumbling to dust before she could even get the thought fully formed. And cruel, vicious reality was more than happy to take its place.

“B-But my birth control pills…”

“Fertility pills,” he explained, his splitting-grin returning in full, “I would’ve preferred to get Clomid from the doctor, but it looks like the over the counter stuff and tracking your cycle worked just fine.”

Her stomach dropped. Pieces of memories, peculiar behaviors and nagging thoughts she’d had over the last two months falling into place. How there were stretches of times where he’d cancel their sessions, only to insist they make them up a few specific days in a row. How he wanted to go multiple rounds a lot those days. How he’d stopped wanting blowjobs from her entirely. How he seemed to only want to fuck her from behind or with her knees pressed hard into her chest, positions he could fuck her the deepest in.

And how he’d have her stay still with his cock buried in her after he came. 

Back then, she just thought he was being weird and pervy. And in a way she was right.

Horribly fucking right.

Shigaraki shifted his legs away from her so that he could bring his head down to her lap, laying his cheek blissfully against her belly. 

“Was so easy,” he hummed against her skin, “Like your body was just waiting for me to knock you up. Waiting for me to make you mine…”

His hands moved across her body, one coiling behind her back so that he could pull her tighter into him, the other lacing his fingers through her own. The fingers on her trembling left hand.

“Both of you, forever,” he growled happily, a predator who had finally and definitively sunk his teeth into his prey, “All mine.”

[livwritesstuff]

It’s late in the day when Sam Owens first approaches Eddie.

Eddie is sitting in a lawn chair on the edge of Joyce and Hopper’s backyard in Hawkins, Indiana, and sort of trapped there ever since his and Steve's daughter Moe had dozed off in his lap a little while ago.

For the record, Eddie and Steve don’t live in Hawkins. They’d have to be insane to stick around after everything this hole of a town put them through, never mind willingly choose to raise a child there. No, Hopper had bullied them into making the trek home to celebrate Moe's first birthday (Jesus H. Christ, she's one) and by the looks of how crowded the yard is, he'd done the same to practically the entire rest of the Party too.

Eddie isn't actually trapped either. It's true that he doesn't really want to tempt fate by waking Moe up from a nap that he and Steve had sort of resigned themselves to skipping that day, but he could get up if he wanted to. He's a whole sap in his big age of thirty-six though, and extremely aware of how quickly Moe’s first year of life had flown by. He'd be a damn fool to not relish in these moments, when Moe is a baby still, when she's little enough to fall asleep in his lap like this.

So he's sitting and he's letting his mind wander down whatever rabbit-holes it ventures upon because he's not just a sap these days, he's getting retrospective too.

Twenty years after all the shit that went down in his Hawkins, Eddie considers himself a secondary character in it all (even though it hadn’t felt like it at the time – that’s for fucking sure). 

Honestly, he'd really only been involved in about five days out of several years of that shit – not in the know yet for the first part, and unconscious for the end of it – secondary character stuff, in Eddie’s opinion (and as a two-time published novelist, he’d be the one to know).

It's probably for the best, to be honest. He barely survived even the secondary stuff — with a mostly-full picture of everything that happened over those three years he feels pretty positive that if he’d gone through anything more he wouldn’t have been so lucky. 

And these days, in July of 2002, he’s feeling pretty lucky too. 

“Doc,” Eddie nods as Owens takes the empty chair beside his own.

Owens is another one of these secondary characters in everything. Owens is…Eddie isn’t sure who Owens is, to be honest. A doctor in some capacity, he's fairly certain, and also a scientist too in some capacity given how he’s still in Hawkins doing research on all that shit — and he roped Dustin into it too (though as far as Eddie can tell, Dustin is a more-than willing victim in it and goddamn thrilled to be taking over his work someday too).

Someday soon, Eddie would wager, because Owens is well and truly reaching retirement age – he probably should have retired already, honestly, but Eddie can also sort of see why it might be difficult to step away from the kind of work he’s spent his life doing.

“Mr. Munson,” Owens greets him in return. Eddie watches his eyes flick down to Moe for a moment, “Or is it Pops these days?”

“That’s Steve, actually,” he replies, tipping his head in the direction of Steve, who’s standing at the grill with Hop (they’re listening to Dustin ramble about something and wearing matching beleaguered expressions).

Owens seems to understand the implication, because his only response is another one of those wry smiles and an exhaled laugh.

“Well, congratulations either way. I was very happy for you when I heard the news about the adoption.”

“Still keeping tabs on us after all these years?” Eddie asks, mostly joking because he knows the answer is yes. He knows they’ll have eyes on them for the rest of their lives for one reason or another (which he’s nearly made his peace with by now).

“Well, old habits die hard,” Owens replies somewhat tiredly, “Or something to that effect.”

Eddie doesn't really have anything to say in response, so he opts to say nothing, instead running a hand over Moe's hair — it's getting long these days, not quite long enough to style yet but long enough that she shakes her head to get it out of her eyes and knocks herself off-balance which is so so cute.

“I’ll admit," Owens continues after a while, "When I first met you, this isn’t where I thought you’d end up.”

“Yeah, you and me both, Doc," he laughs, because it's true.

“What I mean to say," he pauses, "It suits you.”

Moe chose that moment to finally stir, snuffling a bit as she lifts her head and looks at him with those beautiful brown eyes of hers.

"Good nap, bug?" he asks quietly.

She responds with a bleary, "Dada" (which she had only just started saying a few weeks ago and it goddamn kills Eddie every single time) as she nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder.

He hears Owens let out a soft chuckle.

“You’re really milking this, bug," Eddie says as presses a kiss onto the top of her head, "I think he gets it.”

[jayflrt]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝟕𝟖𝟔 26. the athenaeum

JAY HAD GONE THROUGH NUMEROUS INTERVIEWS IN HIS LIFE; THIS WASN'T ANYTHING HE HADN'T EXPERIENCED BEFORE.

The Athenaeum, which was the building designated for the Order members, looked grand on the outside, but it was even more magnificent on the inside. The living space was adorned with decorative sculptures and Corinthian pillars, and a spiraling staircase led to several upper levels. Jay swallowed hard when he realized that he would be living here if he was selected. That would surely make it harder to hide that he was only here for his assignment.

He walked in at 8:06 p.m. on the dot, hoping he had made the right decision, and a little anxious knot unraveled in his chest when Kim Jennie approached him with a pleased smile.

"Right this way to your interview, Jay," she said in a sweet voice, although her smile dropped as she tried to maintain a stoic expression.

In retrospect, the interview itself didn't sound too intimidating. A thirty minute interview with several people asking questions would go by quickly. But a room's worth of eyes were on him, and he felt his throat closing up. Surely, there were scarier things in the world than fifteen pretentious college students sizing him up, but Jay couldn't seem to think of anything but how stuffy the large room seemed to feel.

They were all sitting high above him, circling around the one chair in the middle of the room like a committee of vultures. They were all wearing dark cloaks with a golden wreath adorning the tops of their heads. It looked a little silly, but he tried not to stare too long at the headpieces.

Park Sungjin, Sunghoon's older brother, was seated right in the middle, eyes flitting between Jay and the sheet of paper in front of him. Jay looked around the room for a brief second, making eye contact with Jeonghan, who nearly cracked a smile before returning to looking impassive.

"Welcome to your interview, Jay," Sungjin began with an overwhelming air of authority, motioning for him to sit down. Jay cautiously took a seat, but he immediately felt swamped by everyone's gaze. "We've spent the past semester getting to know you and your accomplishments. All of us are quite familiar with your merit, but this interview is for us to get to know you on a deeper level to see if you have what it takes to be part of our next delegation."

Before Jay could even open his mouth to respond, Sungjin turned to the member to his right, asking, "Baekhyun, would you like to start us off?"

Byun Baekhyun nodded before leaning forward on his forearms. "Jay, if you could be president, during which historical event would it be?"

Jay almost gawked at him. Almost.

He treated the question as if it was any other professional interview question, though. If the Order was taking it seriously, then he had to, as well.

"Probably during the Great Depression," he answered after a few moments of pondering. "I would've done the opposite of whatever Hoover did with his laissez-faire approach, meaning more government intervention, more relief efforts, and less tariffs. Without the Great Depression, Germany probably wouldn't become fascist, so they would have no reason to form a huge army and start the second world war."

"Nice answer," Sungjin praised, which left a surge of relief flooding Jay's chest. "Jisoo?"

The pretty senior smiled coyly, scooting up in her seat to ask, "If you were a tree, what kind of tree would you be?"

Jay seriously thought this was all some sort of sick joke. What kind of question was that? Had he been taking all of this way too seriously?

"Maybe one of those Moon Trees," he said. "I think it's pretty cool that the seeds were still viable after going to the moon and back."

Kim Taehyung was next to ask a question, clearing his throat loudly to cover up Jeonghan whispering to Xu Minghao about where they could find a Moon Tree seed.

"Jay," Taehyung started, "if you could slap any person—living or dead—who would you slap?"

Jay leaned back in his chair, taken aback by the question. Was there a correct way to go about such a question? Could he really just list any person? He could perhaps say Hitler or Stalin, but that was stupid; anyone would slap those two if they were given the choice.

He could go for a more entertaining route, but Jay's mind was currently blanking and he could only think of one person that would have been completely inappropriate to blurt out. He knew you told him to be honest, but honesty would probably do him more harm than good.

However, the seconds were ticking by, and Jay was suddenly overly-conscious of everyone's blank stares. His heart started to beat faster when he realized that everyone was waiting for him to respond.

"Park Sunghoon."

Jay didn't even realize the words actually came out of his mouth until he noticed that the room was dead silent. As if he wasn't nervous already, his blunder made his heart beat against his rib cage like a drum while his palms grew clammy.

It was over.

There was no recovering from such a royal fuck-up. Jay had to find another way to go about this mission. He would have to tell his client that he failed. Maybe he would finally be let go, but then he would have to leave—

A snicker. Then another. And another.

Soon, the entire room had burst into laughter over Jay's answer, including Park Sungjin. Although most of them still looked as if they were in disbelief, they found it absolutely hysterical.

Kim Doyeon, who was currently wiping tears from the corners of her eyes, fought down giggles as she said, "We need you to elaborate."

"Looks like your brother pissed someone off again," Oh Sehun joked, nudging Sungjin from behind.

Sungjin returned a half-grin before folding his arms across his chest and looking down at Jay. "I'd like to hear why, too."

"Uh..." Jay was floundering for an excuse, buying himself time by rubbing his nose. He surely couldn't mention anything that had gone down between Sunghoon and you, so he thought back to a previous memory with the junior. "He puked on my new shoes last semester and never acknowledged it after that. I had to clean them by hand, and he puked on them again."

More laughter chorused from the fifteen of them, and Jay felt a little relieved that he managed to come up with a believable excuse to throw them off. As dumb as their questions were, he almost got himself into trouble there.

Once Sungjin managed to calm down the rest of the members, he shot Jay an apologetic look. "Sorry about them. This is supposed to be a professional interview." He shot pointed looks around the room, but even he wasn't taking his own words seriously. "None of us have ever laughed this hard over an interview question. How about we move onto Minghao?"

Minghao, who Jay couldn't tell was smiling because of his answer about wanting to punch Sunghoon or because Jeonghan had finally shut up about the Moon Trees, straightened his back and squared his shoulders. "Jay, how would you describe the color yellow to someone who's blind? You can take your time to think about this one before you answer."

Jay frowned as he thought long and hard about Minghao's question. It wasn't that it was anything challenging to answer, but he was never really a big fan of the color yellow in the first place.

Sunshine. Dandelions. Canaries. Sunflowers.

Sunshine—but he wasn't really keen on bright, blinding sunlight. Jay more so enjoyed the yellow hues of a sunset or a sunrise. He supposed people associated the color yellow with happiness, but he couldn't really see it.

And then he thought harder about those bright yellows, wondering what it was about the vibrance that made people feel so much joy. He furrowed his brows, and then it came to him all at once.

It wasn't the sunshine itself. Sure, maybe it was a contributing factor, but he remembered that hike he went on while he was back in Washington for winter break. You were standing on a large tree root with your hands on your hips, squinting up at the brilliant sun before nearly tripping over your feet and then laughing hysterically. Something warm and joyful exploding in his chest back then, making him wish he could freeze time.

Maybe that was yellow.

"When you're sad, you say you feel blue," he responded, "so I'd tell a blind person that yellow is their happiest memory. It's like that feeling you get when you look up at the sun and feel its heat on your face, or seeing someone you care for smile really big."

(He swore he could hear Bae Joohyun cooing at his answer from the left end of the room.)

"I think we'll have to wrap this up soon because the next interview is gonna be soon," Sungjin said. "Jennie, would you like to take this one?"

"I can," she said with a nod. "Jay, can you tell me your interpretation of how the name 'Order of Kryptos' came to be?"

Rather than his mouth going dry this time, Jay was more than ready to answer this question—a real question, unlike the previous icebreakers he had been getting. He had done his research far before he even started going to networking events for the Order.

"If I remember correctly, Kryptos is in reference to the sculpture by Jim Sanborn—the one outside the CIA headquarters. It contains four messages, the first three being solved and the fourth remaining one of the most famous unsolved codes in the world," Jay explained. "The name 'Kryptos' itself is the ancient Greek word for 'hidden,' so I believe your society's goals revolve around seeking intelligence and discovering the unknown."

"And what do you think the number 786 signifies?"

"The passcode to the building?"

"Correct."

"Seven-eight-six..." he mumbled, trying to rack his brain for an answer. "The sculpture contains a total of 1,800 characters and only 768 of them are decoded. That's the only connection I can make in my head that relates to 786. Other than that, I don't really know."

Jennie smiled. "Thank you, Jay."

He swallowed thickly. Did he mess up? No, he couldn't have. Jay had been on thin ice when he said he'd punch Sunghoon, but everything else, for the most part, had gone smoothly. There was no possible way he had any idea of knowing what the passcode was for.

"That concludes your interview, Jay," Sungjin said. "We are still deciding on when we're starting Tap Week, so we'll reach out with more information once we've solidified plans. Thank you for meeting with us today."

"Thank you," Jay echoed through the dry mouth and slack tongue.

He went around giving everyone firm handshakes before walking out of the Athenaeum. Although he didn't feel like his interview went terrible, Jay had a sinking feeling that his answer about Sunghoon was going to come back to bite him.

prev | masterlist | next

SUMMARY ▸ private investigator jay park just wants to complete his mission quietly and move on with his life. you, his new assignment who keeps consuming his thoughts, don't make that very easy for him.

AUTHOR'S NOTE ▸ SORRY WILL ANSWER ASKS WHEN I WAKE UP! so eepy rn

TAG LIST ▸ @zdgx1 @smouches @heesdazed @teawithbucky @leep0ems @peachpie4you @niniissus @kgneptun @jaeyunluvr @hooniesuniverse @zerasari @enhalov @sophiko22 @iselltulips @hoondiors @baekhyunstruly @jays-property @woninluv @heerinnie @fakeuwus @yizhoutv @en-happiness @theothernads @y4wnjunz @dammit-jjk @en-happiness @mari-oclock @enhypens-baby @soonyoungblr @jakeslvt @taetaenic @jebetwo @fairysungx @hsgwrld @shmooooo @ineedsomezzz @mrowwww @enha-stars @isawritesss @seongclb @lockburn-castle @alyssajavenss @enczen @calumsfringe @w3bqrl @luvyev @uhsakusa @luvnicho @wildflowermooon @navsnct

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

wibta if i keep having sex with my friends dad? nsfw warning

i (20s cismale) got invited by my friend (20s nonbinary) to try out some new edibles they made last thursday. this isnt too weird because both of us are unemployed (they get disability, i get money from unemployment, and we both live with our parents) and usually during the day their dad (50s cismale) is at work so we get the house to ourselves. well last thursday was different because i came over late in the night when their dad was home, and he offered to make me some dinner too. i get the munchies really bad so i was immediately like yes please and thank you while i fucked off to my friends room. we played some smash bros while we waited for the cookies to kick in, and when it started to hit his dad called us both out for dinner. dinner was great, and his dad is super chill — so he let us raid his alcohol cabinet. i dont think he knew either of us were stoned for the record (im naturally really quiet/dont make eye contact, my friend sounds high 24/7 naturally) so i dont think he was like trying to get anyone drunk or anything. my tolerance is pretty good but my friends is shit so it didnt take long until they were like blackout drunk and passing out on the couch, while their dad and i were both drunk too (not blackout but pretty drunk, and i was still high) and sitting on the opposite side of the couch next to eachother

important fact about me - i crossdress like femboys or whatever theyre called. i like looking really feminine and cute and confusing people. im not trans or anything like that gender is just a game and i am winning it. but i do tend to dress up in very egirl/goth gf clothes if you know what i mean, and i look pretty convincing ive been told (friend tells me i would pass for ciswoman with the makeup on). i think their dad maybe forgot that i was me (he usually sees me in boy clothes) and he started hitting on me? i didnt think i was gay or bi either until he started doing it and i got really flustered but i didnt stop him? again i was fucked up so the attention felt really nice despite it being my friends dad. but anyways he kept getting closer until he kissed me, and it felt nice so i let it keep going? which was probably super fucked up in retrospect. but anyways stuff gets hot and steamy, their dad doesnt bother lifting up my skirt, one thing leads to another and we have sex. he definitely noticed im not a girl during that (its pretty hard to miss lol) but he didnt stop so we kept going for a while

after we were done he and i passed out on the couch in a kind of awkward position, we both woke up in the morning and i think thats when he realized im me, but he didnt seem to freak out even though hes straight?? or at least i thought he was straight. but we had sex again in the morning and then when my friend woke up we all had breakfast and i went back to my friends room and we hung out more and got high again. while we were though i accidentally spilled the beans to my friend, and they FREAKED out on me and said that i was so gross for doing that, and they cant believe that it happened, stuff like that. they kicked me out of their room and their dad had to drive me home because i was shaking bad from it. but while their dad drove me home i was super pissed and mad and not thinking straight (haha) and so i tried to convince their dad to take a detour so we could fuck again. and he was like, okay sure, so we did?? but now i feel horrible for doing it knowing that it grossed my friend out so much, but i really like their dad and he seems to like me too, and i want to keep banging him :(

What are these acronyms?

[hiskillingjar]

Free Use (Strade/MC)

i’m at work, i have meetings all day, and i’m sick as a fucking dog. put me down like old yeller.

I’m gonna spend the next few days working on commissions and university stuff btw so. taking a break until tueday where i’ll come back with something very very fun :) 

strade’s girlboss lawyer is @miveus' oc btw. check her out i love her

day 23: free use second person

"God, needy little slut, isn’t she?"

You moaned with barely quelled distress against the stranger's cock, pulsing halfway down your throat, your bound wrists straining behind you in latex and metal. Your thighs and calves ached painfully, just trying to hold yourself upright as you bounced on another cock, desperately, needily, underneath you. 

Hands like gnarled claws, ungroomed fingernails and calloused skin, curled around your soft thighs and kept your legs spread wide open as whoever thrust deeper inside you, mostly silent (lest they give away any potential identity to the blinking camera filming the whole thing), save for the occasional grunts of pleasure when you clenched tightly enough around them, made yourself a tight little toy for their pleasure.

They were maybe the third person (not including the dildos, beer bottles, knife handles and other phallic objects they could find to fill you with) you'd had inside you tonight, though they might have been the fourth for all you knew. 

It was easy (and, perhaps, integral to your survival) to lose count of just how many people has already fucked you and just dissassociate completly, especially so when your brain was in the process of leaking out of your ears from the sheer amount of cock being rammed against it.

Though, in retrospect, your dissociative haze was probably because of the “complimentary” cocaine and date-rape drugs the host had forced upon you (that Strade had let them force upon you without a word of complaint) that made everything blur into one.

Not that you had a problem with some casual narcotic use, though.

Things like that certainly did the trick at loosening up your nerves, or, at least they had done in the past.

"Takin' it like a fuckin' trooper too. Must be the fourth guy who's fucked her at this rate."

“Fourth? Ah, I should be charging by now. I didn’t know bringing a ‘plus one’ would cause such a stir~”

Ah. So it was the fourth.

The cock in your mouth came unexpectedly down your throat without a word (or vague noise or grunt) of warning, and your head was pushed away like an abandoned fleshlight, spittle and cum leaking from your open, gagged mouth and trickling down the latex panel covering your jaw. 

You might have been annoyed, in a previous life, forced to taste some grimy stranger’s cum (and lord only knew what diseases they might have been carrying and passing onto you), but another climax must have implied that you were getting closer to the end, didn’t it? That you were almost finished playing the party’s sex toy? 

How many people could there have been at a meet-up like this?

“You wouldn’t let anyone miss out on this opportunity, would you? I mean, you were kind of asking for it, bringing a hot body like that, wrapped up and mumbling like some cute, little retard.”

“Hah! I did not know you had a preference for the mentally disabled, TJ. I’ll have to keep that in mind, ja?”

When you (involuntarily) clenched on the cock buried inside you (the familiar growl of your master so close by enough to make your body react), they couldn't help but spill over too.

Filling up both your holes. It was kind of sinful just how much that idea turned you on, now.

Now that you had been broken in.

When they withdraw from you and pushed themselves away with a grunt, unexpectedly strong and gentle hands (but not his, you knew what his hands felt like) held your hips tightly to support your shaking body against the cold, cement ground, presumably so you didn’t fall like a rag doll and hurt yourself. 

A warm cocktail of cum dripped down the inside of your thigh, and you didn't even try and stop the delirious gurgle of arousal that slipped from your lips when you felt it.

“Maybe you should go legit and make real porn instead of snuff. I mean, the pay is shittier, but you’ll have a business when we’re shut down.”

“When? So pessimistic!” He cut himself off with a hearty laugh, the warmth of it making you relax in your binds. “No, no, I’d never turn sex into a business. I’ve already turned one passion into my income, I can’t do another.” 

You barely had a moment to really catch your breath, before another person was approaching you, jerking your body upright (easy when you were as docile as you were) as they unzipped the front of their jeans with the low drag of metal on metal. Without an order to, you obediently moved in closer with an low murmur, rubbing your covered cheek against the hard on underneath the layers of fabric.

Playing the good toy, the best toy, he must be so proud of you for this, mustn’t he

“No no, you shouldn’t worry about the site going bust. I’ve got that, ah, anwaltin, lawyer girl keeping my slate clean. She’s a pro with those sorts of things.”

“Oh yeah, I know her. She’s a hot piece of ass, ain’t she?”

“Don’t I know it. Wouldn’t mind sinking into her one of these days.”

You felt the smooth glide as a set of barbel piercings pressed against the drooling width of your tongue and it was enough to make you moan even more as you moved in closer, dragging your tongue needily over the length as soon as you had the space to, and taking the half hard cock into your mouth. 

Your whole body trembled when you felt it harden between your spread lips and your core clenched up tight, making it harder for another body to invade you as they pleased.

“Haha, careful! That’s how you lose a court case.”

“Doubt it. She’s too worked up trying to outwit me to try anything like that. Kinda gets me going, knowing how clueless she is.”

Delicate, feminine fingers then started to rub against your erect clit, giving you some stimulation while you were servicing everyone else so readily. All the while, a ripped, muscled hardbody kept you stil as they squirmed underneath you, another hard cock prodding at your entrance that was gradully loosening, as your hips bucked towards the acrylics teasing your slit.. 

Whoever had decided to show mercy on you worked you over slowly, pushing you closer to your edge and taking abdundant enjoyment in the way your body trembled, the sound of the shaking moans at the top of your throat as it got fucked, the desperation in your eyes as they squeezed tight to stop overwhelmed tears pouring down your face.

“Mm, make sure the camera is zoomed in on their face. I want to keep that expression for the photo album.”

“You’re a dirty motherfucker, you know that? Complain’ about me using them, shit…”

“Mmf,” You groaned helplessly, straining against your bondage and swallowing around the pulsing cock half-way down your throat.

The very idea, the very prospect of you maybe being seen at one of these places made your core throb even harder. 

A missing person, abandoned and presumed dead a long time ago, suddenly appearing in a sordid, quasi-snuff porn film, not only taking everything that was given to them but seemingly enjoying it too. 

Long gone was the person you used to be, replaced by a puppet that looked like you, a puppet that smiled through torture and death, as long as their master treated them with kindness afterwards.

In spite of it all, the idea was undeniably arousing and a rush of deeply desired humiliation and shame made your head spin.

 More hands stroked down your shivering body, fingers worming into your holes (even the one that hadn’t been touched yet) to test out just how stretched and thoroughly used you already were. You were sure that you could have taken the next one up your ass without any prep and bone dry, if you were in a particularly masochistic mood.

Which you were. Almost one hundred percent of the time these days.

And things like this were the perfect outlet for every one of your self-destructive urges.

[swamp-chicken]

distant worlds, ethubs, 2042 words

“You know, I really should have established a timeline for how long I would be your employee,” Bdubs sighs, stocking boxes with enderpearls. “Because I’m sure not doing this forever.”

Etho is sitting at his desk, idly doodling in the corner of his accounting book. “Aw, you’re not?”

Bdubs stretches, cracking his neck. “No! I need to go and build stuff! Make things! I have my own life, you know.”

Bdubs’ pink shorts are riding up a little. Etho tries not to look. “Mmhmm.” he says instead, his go-to when he loses track of a conversation. The doodle on his accounting book is starting to look suspiciously like a series of little hearts. Etho hastily scribbles them out. 

‘You know, you don’t have to sit here and supervise me. I’m not going to wreck your shop or anything.”

“Yeah, but…” But it’s been years since Etho has had Bdubs like this, working at his side. 

Bdubs sighs dramatically. “You don’t trust me?!”

Etho spirals the pen around the page. “You’re a trainee, I gotta keep you on the straight and narrow.” In this case, lying is less pathetic than telling the truth.

Bdubs huffs, but doesn’t argue. They subside back into silence, Etho stifling a smile at the muffled expletive Bdubs lets out when a shulker box closes on his hand. 

The pen travels across the page.

Years ago, a day like this wouldn’t have been so rare. 

 ———

Bdubs was humming and hawing over Etho’s newly-constructed bridge.

“It’s bad,” Etho sighed.  “You can say it’s bad.”

“No, no, no,” Bdubs chided. “No one’s saying that. It just needs a little… umm…“ he rummaged through his inventory, then brightened. “Leaves! Dude, just add some leaves.” He scattered some across the bridge railing with a flourish. “See? Fixes everything.”

Etho hummed, unconvinced. “And then maybe some… trap doors under those?”

Bdubs clapped his hands. “Oh yes, that’ll do it.”

Etho placed the trap doors and stepped back to take in the full picture alongside Bdubs. “I dunno…”

Bdubs’ hand dropped to his shoulder and squeezed. His touch was distractingly warm. “It looks great! Very rustic.” 

Etho tilted his head. It did look a little better than before. 

Satisfied that today’s job was mostly done, he went to go empty his inventory. Bdubs decided to stick around as he worked. He had been doing that a lot more lately. 

Etho put away the final stack of cobblestone and cleared his throat. “There’s actually, uh, something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Oh, yeah?” Bdubs was tooling around on Beyonc, showing off her elegant lines and five-block jump.

Etho watched them circle the area and tried to breathe through his sudden spike of anxiety.“Remember the game we worked on? In the modded server?”

Bdubs kicked Beyonc into a flying leap that landed her on top of Etho’s chest stack. “How could I forget? All those hours wasted!”

“Well, yeah.” Etho chewed his lip. “I was actually thinking of building something like that here. In vanilla.”

“You can do that? With redstone?”

Etho shrugged. “I can try.”

Bdubs snorted. “Friggin’ genius.”

“The thing is, though…”

Bdubs nudged Beyonc forward and she landed gracefully before Etho.

“The thing is though…” Etho continued. “I actually may need help—” 

“I’ll do it,” Bdubs interrupted, before Etho had even finished his sentence. 

“You sure?” Etho hesitated. “I don’t want you to put you on the spot or anything…”

“Of course!” Beyonc reared and Bdubs sat comfortably astride her. “We’ll do it together. As a team.”

It was Etho’s first time leading a big project, so he wanted it to do things right. He chose the location and dug out the area himself. He even decided to build a worker’s shack where he and Bdubs could sleep and store all of their materials. 

In retrospect, Etho thought as he mapped out the floorplan, marking two separate bedrooms for him and Bdubs, he shouldn’t have been nervous about inviting Bdubs to join. Bdubs was a kind person and they had already tackled several projects together.

Etho paused. So kind that he probably felt like he couldn’t turn Etho down. So kind that he unflinchingly put up with all of Etho’s various idiosyncrasies and insistences. So kind that, any time they had a disagreement, he would capitulate with a laugh, easy and unbothered.

“You don’t have to help,” Etho blurted the first time Bdubs came to visit the worker’s shack. 

Bdubs was standing in the doorway of the bedroom Etho had built for him, but still a glimmer of uncertainty crossed his face. “What, you don’t want me here?”

There was a lump in Etho’s throat. “No, I just…I don’t want to force you into anything.”

Bdubs placed his bed down in the room like a declaration. “There’s no forcing.” He met Etho’s gaze and smiled, so warmly that Etho felt it in his chest. “I’m gonna decorate this place so good.”

Etho had worked with Bdubs before, but he had never lived with him. It was different, not having to say their goodbyes at the end of the day.  Instead, they walked back to the worker’s shack side by side, chattering about everything and nothing. It was different, waking up in the morning and finding Bdubs already in the kitchen, sleep-mussed and cooking, asking Etho how he liked his eggs. 

It was different— Bdubs’ toothbrush in the bathroom, the wet puddle after he showered. The flowers that appeared in the windowsill and the laughter that echoed through the halls. Prepared meals, easy company, warm nights of doing nothing much but enjoying each other’s presence.

It was a different kind of torture, Etho learned, having Bdubs so near and liking him so much. He was too kind, making eggs just the way Etho liked, telling stories that made him laugh, helping unflinchingly with the enormous task of building this arena. He was so kind that Etho couldn’t help falling in love with him. 

Nights were the worst, were the time when Etho felt furthest from any semblance of rationality or self-control. Lying in bed, staring through the darkness, he felt hyperaware that Bdubs lay just a short distance across the hall. So kind that he just might let Etho climb into bed with him. 

Etho rolled over and willed himself to sleep. 

Days passed, and then weeks. Spring was pushing into summer and the days were getting hotter. One particular day the heat was so oppressive that it even invaded the underground bunker where Etho had been doing most of the redstone wiring. 

When the sweat started dripping into Etho’s eyes, he had no choice but to take a break. He stood, wiping sweat from his face with his shirt bottom, and took a deep draught from his water bucket.

Bdubs, he knew, was probably even worse off. He was building outside in the blazing sun. Etho decided to check on him. He felt bad that Bdubs was working so hard on a project that Etho himself wasn’t certain they could finish. 

The end of the season had been announced a week ago and since then they had been scrambling to complete the arena before they had to leave this world and go to the next. There was a pit in Etho’s stomach every time he thought about it. This had happened to them last time, and now it was happening on the project that he was leading— the project that he had roped Bdubs into, that they had spent so much time on.

The worst part, though, was leaving their home. Etho didn’t know when he had started calling the worker’s shack home, but he had. It certainly felt more like home than any other place he had built on the server. He couldn’t deny that was in a large part due to Bdubs’ presence. 

He didn’t know what the next world would hold. He didn’t know if he would find an excuse to live with Bdubs again. He didn’t even know if Bdubs would want to work with him again, especially after this project had turned out to be such a thankless grind.

Etho found Bdubs building on the outskirts of the arena. He was shirtless, sweat beading along his shoulderblades. The sight was so overwhelming that Etho almost turned to leave.

Bdubs was grunting with the effort of building a wall, dropping blocks into place. “You don’t have to push yourself so hard,” Etho ventured once he felt more in-control. “I’m not even paying you.”

Bdubs put his blocks down with a heavy sigh. “You think at this point my ego’s not all tied up in this too?”

Etho snorted and drew near. “Good point.” This close, he could see the smile lines crinkling at the corner of Bdubs’ eyes. “Want a break?” He held out his water bucket and a snack. 

“Golden carrots!” Bdubs exclaimed. “You spoil me.”

He took the water bucket first, though, and drank from it deeply. Etho’s eyes were drawn to his throat as he swallowed, to the sweat droplets that chased each other down his torso. 

“Ahh,” Bdubs sighed, refreshed, and Etho snapped his gaze upwards. “Do you mind?” Bdubs asked, gesturing to the water.

Etho shook his head, confused, but before he had much time to ponder, Bdubs was tipping the bucket over his own head, sending water crashing down around him. 

Etho squawked and hopped backwards out of the splash zone.

“Oh,” Bdubs groaned, “Oh, that feels so good.” His hair was dripping, plastered to his head. Water was still sheeting down his body and soaking into his jeans. His eyes fluttered open and he caught Etho’s shocked gaze. He blinked. “You said you didn’t mind!” 

There was a note of petulance in Bdubs’ voice that wouldn’t have been there a few months ago, before they had started living in each other’s pockets. Before Bdubs—before he was comfortable—

Something inside Etho snapped. 

Bdubs lifted the bucket uncertainly, “I can get more water, I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

Etho carefully took the bucket out of Bdubs’ hands. 

“…Etho?” Bdubs was stepping back awkwardly, falling back on those sloppy forms that had gotten him killed by Etho more than once.

Etho grabbed Bdubs’ hand and Bdubs froze, blinking up at him from under his soaked fringe, eyes soft and worried. 

“You—“ Etho tried. “I—“ His ears burned with embarrassment.

He gave up on speaking and pulled the mask underneath his chin, pressed his lips to Bdubs’ hand.

“Oh,” Bdubs said. So kind that he didn’t pull away.

Etho turned Bdubs’ hand and pressed a lingering kiss to his palm.

“Oh,” Bdubs said again, voice hushed. “You don’t— do you?”

———

Etho wants to reach out, wants to take Bdubs hand, but he can’t. He’s too afraid Bdubs will run through his fingers like water, melt away like he has so many times before.

Bdubs is squirmy that way, surprisingly hard to pin down. One minute he’s swearing his eternal devotion, the next he’s mocking Etho, eyes gleaming with mirth. There’s months and years he’s not even there at all, times when he’s nothing but a sore spot in Etho’s memory. 

That day in the unfinished arena, Bdubs had kissed him. His hair had dripped into Etho’s eyes. Etho hadn’t thought anything of kindness that night when they curled together, Etho’s chin propped on his chest. Bdubs was too busy looking at him like he was a puzzle he had found the last piece to. 

Things change, Etho knows. That world ended, a new one began. Bdubs never kissed him again. 

It can never be like what it once was, Etho fears. Here is too distant from there.

“Done!” Bdubs announces. “Your enderpearls are all sorted. Now can I leave?”

Etho sighs, but he doesn’t have any good reason to keep Bdubs longer. “Yeah, that should be it for today.” 

Bdubs is already packing his inventory. He pauses on his way out the door. “You know, you didn’t even comment on my uniform.”

Etho is caught off guard. “I—I didn’t?”

Bdubs gives a spin. His legs are on full display. “I made it just for you!”

Etho swallows. When he meets Bdubs’ gaze, he winks. “I’ll see you tomorrow, boss.”

[rendy-a]

Hi! I saw that your requests were, so don't mind me dropping in^^

I constantly see Malleus/or Sebek x Reader fics where they give reader a rock or smt for the dating ritual and reader is clueless- ye non of that.

Reader is the definition of Goblin core or just Goblin in general, the moment Malleus/or Sebek presents the rock, they run to Rumshackle to get their pretty rock and later reader is like "have a rock of love... My love for you"

Can I request something similar as a scenerio for Malleus and Sebek? (If you don't feel like both, then plz do Malleus)

Thanks!

Thanks for dropping by! It does feel like a fae would be one to gift something strange and mundane as an important gift. Here is your request of getting an unusually random item from the fae boys as a romantic gesture. Hope you like it!

It wasn’t every day that one got courted by a fae prince.  You’d become somewhat of a legend among the first-years for taming the fearsome dragon prince.  When your dear Malleus happened to approach you while in a group, all the other students would freeze up, but you’d just smile at your sweetheart and wait to hear what he wanted.  It was usually to present you with some sort of gift.  You’d become used to receiving gifts, sometimes of immense value, as an everyday occurrence.  You’d just smile at the jewels or such and wish your boyfriend a happy day before going back to your business. 

Your friends, though, they were always eager to check out what you’d been gifted and bemoan their own luck at not receiving such riches.  “Ah,” sighs Ace, “my last birthday, I got socks.  Look at what you get for it just being Tuesday!”  Ace lifts the bejeweled…whatever…and moans again.  Sometimes, no one was quite sure what the gifts were, but each gem-encrusted piece gave off an air of sophistication.  You consoled Ace good-naturedly while also mentally planning a visit to see Lilia later and ask for more information on…whatever this was.

Lilia was always more than happy to invite you in and hear more about his ward’s courting progress.  “Ah, a gilded corset cover.  How nice.” Lilia smiles at you knowingly.  “I’m sure you were happy to add this to your ballroom staples for your future in Briar Valley.”  You pictured it; men and women dressed in elaborate clothes, decorated with such things as bejeweled corsets.  Well, you tried to picture it before shaking your head and leaving that in the category of ‘things you’d figure out later!’  You returned the short fae’s smile, “Ah yes.  I’ll just store that away with my other ballroom garments and accessories.” You flash him a tight smile and he chuckles at you before handing you a book.  “Thought you might be interested in this.  Many old fae customs and traditions in there.  For, oh I don’t know, someone looking to learn more, so they don’t have to go chatting up their grandpa every time they get a private gift.”

You’d smiled at him gratefully and accepted the book.  You were glad to read up on the culture of Briar Valley and found it quite fascinating.  There were even a few notes specifically on dragon fae.  In retrospect, you had recognized a few of the things mentioned in Malleus’s behavior already.  It felt good to be in the know for once instead of always running to Lilia for help. 

You were especially glad to have that knowledge before receiving the gift you’d gotten today.  You were hanging out with your friends in the Basketball Club, listening to Ace brag about things he’d actually done (scored 2 baskets from the 3-point line) and things he’d only imagined (breaking past Jamil).  That was when you noticed a sort of hush had fallen across the gym.  You closed your eyes and felt a sort of sensation, like electricity or a storm brewing, that you knew meant your sweetheart was nearby.  So, it was no surprise to you when you opened your eyes and turned to find Malleus at your side. 

You smiled up at him warmly and greeted him.  He returned your smile and greeting with a soft fondness that was characteristic of your relationship.  “Dearest Treasure, I have today a boon for you.”  Saying this, he pulls from the air a branch and holds it out to you.  You gaze at the leafless twig and back up to his nervous expression.  He waits patiently but cautiously for your response.  A great grin spreads over your face and you accept the branch.  “Oh Malleus,” you say, barely containing a tremor in your voice, “this, this is wonderful.  Thank you, it was just what I was dreaming of.”  You beam up at him and show your branch to your friends.

“It’s just a stick,” you hear Ace whisper to Floyd.  Malleus’s mouth tightens a small bit and Jamil notices.  He immediately goes into full blown retainer panic mode.  “A stick of great quality!  Your Highness, I have never seen a stick of such fantastic proportion before.  Surely it is the greatest stick of all.”  Malleus preens at the praise.  Floyd tilts his head and only comments, “I don’t see it.  Land-dwellers sure are strange.”  You give your confused friends a small laugh before grabbing Malleus by the hand and leading him from the gym. 

You lean your head gently on his arm as you walk, smiling happily at your branch.  “It is a particularly nice branch, isn’t it?” you ask with a smile.  Malleus gives a contented hum from deep in his chest, “So what do you intend to do with it?” he asks carefully.  You look up at him surprised, “Why put is around my bed of course.  What else would I do with it?”  He laughs merrily, pleased by your response.  Yes, you know what this is.  The first branch of many that you will use to construct a dragon’s nest.  You can’t believe you’ve just received a proposal from a dragon.  You pull your treasured branch close to your heart and smile on.

It was a rock.  A round sort (but not perfectly round), with a crack running along one side exposing some glints of the interior.  It was most certainly a rock.  “It’s a rock,” Grim offers, “If you can’t eat it, what good is it?”  You look over at your companion disapprovingly, “Plenty good.  Plus, you eat rocks all the time, so I don’t think you should be one to judge.”  He gives you a disdainful look, “Only the good smelling ones.”  Then he wanders off, leaving you alone in your Ramshackle room with the rock.

You smile and wander around the room, trying your special rock in many different places.  You finally settle on the mantle in front of the mirror, where you’d see it every day when you got ready.  It really was a nice rock.  You turned it around to look at it closer.  The crack along the seam appeared as a flaw at first, until you noticed how its jagged shape resembled that of a lightning bolt.  Through the little lightning bolt gap, a few green sparkles of the interior layers were visible, peridot, you thought.  It was perfect.

You remembered a conversation you’d had with Sebek long ago on books he’d read.  You’d asked him for some of the stories from his childhood and he’d told you a tale he read as a small child about a brave bird that walked to the ocean to find a pebble for its beloved.  It sounded like something you remembered from your own world, and you told him so.  He smiled and said that this was an old traditional tale in Briar Valley.  Now, you understood what sort of tradition it had created.  Smiling at your pebble, you set yourself to your own task.

“Here’s a pretty rock,” Deuce offers it to you.  You examine it carefully before tossing it back on the ground, “No, that’s nice but it’s not the right rock.”  Ace walks over to a pile and picks up another, “How about this one?”  You look at him and roll your eyes, “Ace that’s just a regular rock.” He tosses the rock down in frustration, “That’s a regular rock, this is a regular rock, your super special rock is just a regular rock; Prefect, they are all just rocks!”  You frown but continue to scan the ground below you.  “You don’t have to keep coming along if you don’t want to.”  You knew that to most people, it would seem like a pointless endeavor.  Finally, Ace heaves a large and exasperated sigh.  “No, I’m coming.  I just don’t get it is all.  How about this one.  If you turn it just right, it almost looks like a heart.”  You smile and obligingly look at the rock, already knowing it wasn’t YOUR rock.  “It’s nice.  Why don’t you keep this one?” 

He moves to toss it but then appears to reconsider and pockets the unusual-shaped rock; it was a neat rock.  You don’t say anything but smile to yourself.  That was Ace’s rock; sort of average looking but when you twisted it right, it was a solid heart.  You didn’t need Ace’s rock though; you needed your rock.  Just like Sebek had looked until he found one that perfectly represented himself, you’d look until you found one that fit you just right.  That was the point of it all.  To journey as long and far as the penguin of legend and find a representation of yourself to offer to your partner. 

You didn’t know how long it had taken Sebek to find that perfect rock, but you knew he’d have never settled for less than the best.  He’d have climbed a mountain and traveled great distance; anything it took.  So…you’d just have to do that as well.  One day, you smile to yourself, you’d be able to return the gesture and offer back a rock, and with it, your entire self to him.  Then you’d place the rocks on a mantle together, maybe in a little cabin of your own in Briar Valley and live happily ever after.

[synergysilhouette]

Everyone keeps talking about "traditional villains," but in retrospect, I wish Disney had gone in a different direction for the Revival Era. Hear me out...

King Magnifico's failed characterization and poor writing in "Wish" really bummed me out. I was looking forward to a complex villain who was kinda right. I was hoping it could usher in a new age of Disney villains who were more grey than black and white, who made the characer grow as a person because they challenged their perspective. But then I realized that the opportunity existed in earlier revival-era villains:

Dr. Facilier is a villain first and foremost, though thinking back on it, I do think he is kinda proto-Magnifico, granting people's wishes, only for them to find that what they wanted isn't what they expected. I do wish he tied a bit of truth in with his scams, mentioning (similar to Magnifico) how people's dreams are very difficult to achieve--especially in the post-WWI American South, particularly POC. Naveen is generally assumed to be a POC himself, so he could juxtapose this viewpoint as someone who's never really had to experience such hardships. Dr. Facilier could still be 100% villainous, but further emphasis on dreams, wishes, and hard work would be part of his character. However, this is the reverse of "Wish"; Tiana has already worked hard, but she's lost a lot of her innocence and light-heartedness trying to achieve it, thus causing her to reevaluate how important love is and how she may not have realized it, being more practical about her dreams. It all starts with a wish.

Mother Gothel was already right; the world can be dark and cruel, and will destroy any light it finds. However, similar to Magnifico, since she's completely evil, the protagonist she goes against doesn't really change to understand what she's saying. Rapunzel doesn't see the world as dark or dangerous anymore; it's the opposite, thanks to her experiences. Because of this, I do wish Rapunzel did have a bit more negative experiences independent of Gothel to prove Gothel's point rather than it being "hey, she's just saying that because she's the villain." Maybe Rapunzel tries healing someone and people start lusting after her hair.

Hans is DEFINITELY a missed opportunity. He was the anti-Anna; isolated and alone, and he became bitter and cruel because of it. It's mentioned that the deleted song "More than Just the Spare" was removed because it made Anna too much like Hans. I don't think that, and if anything, it furthers my point: Hans gave up on his brothers, who he felt overlooked by and pestered by (he doesn't even mention his parents). Maybe give Hans less brothers and feature them a little in the movie so we can see how they interact with Hans and how it's a "what could be" for Anna and Elsa. His evil character is exactly what Anna is trying to avoid, but she understands how he became this way rather than it simply being for shock value.

Yokai was a great villain to me, but the reveal happened too late. I'd have loved seeing a more thorough exploration of his character and parallels to Hiro (which were done great in the film; I just wish it was expanded on). Highlight how people quickly forget about the dead and don't always learn from history, how there's this cycle of loss and hatred that you have to break.

Bellweather was on a power trip, but I do wish she had a storyline similar to Judy and Nick, since--in an interesting twist--they come off as more interesting and complex than the villain. She doesn't really say what made her act like this, and comments that "fear always works." I wish we got more of that, especially to play the two sides card; Zootopia is mainly predator-phobic, and challenges to this, ie predators playing down predator-related crimes in order to get people to look past their identity (and the fact that many predators are in positions of power) may have caused Bellweather's abuse by predators to be overlooked, causing her to want them all gone.

Te Ka is interesting. Despite "Moana" being a great film, I do feel like Te Ka and Maui's storyline was underutilized. It's revealed Maui stole Te Ka's heart for humans, but from what we see, Moana lives in this ideal community where their heritage, culture, and nature is loved and respected. Maybe embrace the fact that Tala is the only one who tells the story of the ancestors and how being they became "comfortable" since they were no longer voyagers, being used to the hierarchy and their stagnant society. Highlighting some humans' selfish natures would've been nice rather than Maui just telling us about it, with Te Ka being a metaphor for the destruction and disregard for nature and love.

Namaari is such a missed opportunity. Despite caring about her community, she comes off as more villainous than an antihero since she doesn't show any sympathy or care for Raya--in fact, she seems rather smug about hurting her. By making her a villain burdened by expectations and love for Fang while slowly being redeemed would've been better to me, shifting her POV slowly, making Raya angry with Namaari but understanding her motives. Having some regret about her choices--even if she believed they were the right ones--would've gone a long way for Namaari's characterization.

Magnifico...well, you already know he could've been one of Disney's most complex villains. Horrifying backstory and powers that are the result of hardwork left him with a jaded view on wish granting. He wants to help others, but has MANY reservations about it.

This is just my POV, of course; some of you may disagree (or feel like the aforementioned villains already achieved what I ask for), but I do hope future Disney villains have that "they're kinda right, even if they're wrong" characterization. It'd be a nice new era as the successor to traditional villains and twist villains--though just like twist villains, this trope requires VERY good writing.

[nin-jay-go]

arin and ras are out in the wilds when they find and welcome back an unexpected teammate.

word count: 1556

-=-

Arin sighed and speared another strange fruit with his stick. Its juice spilled down the branch, and he angled it away so it didn’t drip onto his hands. He frowned and held it over the fire, watching the way its skin sizzled and roasted. 

It was the fourth day of being out in the wilds with Ras. The tiger had reclaimed his hammer and was scrubbing its surface with a spare shred of cloth Arin had volunteered from his gi. His ear turned towards Arin, listening to the fruit cook.

They were tired, to be honest. With Ras having lost all his companions, and Arin abandoning his, they were on their own together. It sucked, and it left them to survive in the wilds with nothing but pure skill and luck, but they were alive. For now, that’s all that mattered.

Arin decided the fruit was roasted enough and handed the stick over to Ras. His nose twitched, smelling the fruit nearby, and he wordlessly turned and took the branch. His chuff was thanks enough. 

“You’re sure you can eat it?” Arin asked, raising an eyebrow. “Aren’t you a carnivore?”

“Obligate carnivore,” Ras corrected. “We have seen very few animals, and have hunted fewer. I will take whatever food I am able to, in this circumstance.”

“As long as you’re not gonna die from eating that,” Arin shrugged, going back to his own dinner - a weird squash-like vegetable that smelled like wet mud and pumpkin. It, too, was roasted over the fire, and tasted something similar to eggplant, but sweeter, and with a coarser texture.

They ate their dinners in silence. Arin chewed on his lip when his squash was gone. Ras had taught him how to hunt for animals recently, which Arin was not very good at, but he hadn’t done anything to tell him about his parents. A little hint of doubt crept into his mind. What if Ras was lying? What if he didn’t actually know where his parents were, and he wasn’t gonna even teach him anything useful?

No, he decided. They were both just focusing on survival right now. Besides, even if he did turn his back on Ras now, where would he go? His parents are gone, the ninja definitely wouldn’t want him back when he betrayed them like he did (though he wouldn’t want to go back to them anyways), and he didn’t want to wander the Merged Realms forever until he died. That seemed pointless.

So Arin only had Ras right now. He could trust Ras. Cuz there’s nowhere else he could go.

A branch breaking startled him out of his thoughts, and he was immediately up in a fighting position in the direction of the noise. Ras, too, had gotten up, ears pressed back and growling low in his throat, tail lashing.

Out from behind a grove of trees flashed something blue. “Who’s there?” Arin yelled. 

And when the figure shakily stepped out from the trees, Arin and Ras straightened up in surprise. Because there was Jay, the Blue Ninja, scowling and holding his arms.

“Walker,” Ras growled, getting out of his fighting stance. His fur lay flatter on his body. “What are you doing here?”

“You sent me away,” Jay grimaced. “I was out here, wandering, thinking about what to do, when I heard something over here and… well…” He gestured at the two of them and their fire. He chuckled. “I was just about ready to return to the Administration when I felt my powers return to me.” 

Lightning crackled around his hand, illuminating his face in the darkness. His eyes seemed to glow an unnatural color until the lightning faded away.

Ras tilted his head and stepped forward, towards the ex-ninja. Jay immediately cowered and ducked his head. “I’m sorry for failing you, Lord Ras! You were right, that damned ninja was trying to get into my head, and for a moment, it almost worked. That weakness cost me.”

“That it did, Jay,” Ras stated unkindly. “I sent you away for you to clear your head. I had expected you to have a longer lasting impact on the ninja, but… in retrospect, perhaps they would have corrupted you further, if given the chance. They were very determined to convince you of their lies.”

“It won’t happen again, Lord Ras. Next time, I won’t be as lenient,” Jay continued, head still bowed. His eyes flashed red. “I’ll finish her off next time.”

Ras looked thoughtful for a moment, tail swishing and head tilted. Arin frowned and looked at the former ninja. Jay used to be the joke-slinging, fun Blue Ninja, fearless in the face of combat and doing it all with a smile behind his mask. This… wasn’t Jay. Not the Jay that the world used to know. His amnesia really screwed with him, huh…

Eventually, Ras huffed and nodded. “You are the only one of my men that still remains. All the rest are either under the control of those Forbidden Five, or are too far to reach now.”

“A-and the Gong of Shattering?” Jay asked, looking up at Ras. 

“With them, presumably.”

Either Arin was really bad at reading expressions, or Jay looked… disappointed at that. That face was immediately drowned by one of hope. “Then…”

“You may stay with Arin and I,” Ras decided. “None of us have much else to do.”

Jay bowed quickly, nearly folding himself in half. “Thank you, Lord Ras. I won’t disappoint you again!”

“Good,” Ras smiled. “See to it that you don’t.”

As Ras walked away, it let Jay see Arin, as if for the first time. They blinked at each other for a second before Jay’s face scrunched up suspiciously. “Aren’t you one of those ninja brats?”

Arin tried not to scowl. “Nope. Not anymore. Not since they betrayed and lied to me.”

“Yea, they’ll do that,” Jay nodded. “You’re training under Lord Ras now?”

“He’s done a better job at training me than Lloyd so far,” Arin shrugged. He was past the point of caring about his so-called heroes. He looked over the former ninja, dressed up in the wolf warrior regalia typical for Ras’ lackeys, but with a few more embellishments. Personalized, almost. “You… don’t remember the ninja at all, then?” Arin continued.

“Am I supposed to?” Jay raised an eyebrow. It was his notched one. That was always one of Jay’s signature traits, alongside his freckles and striking color. 

“You had fought them at some point prior to your amnesia,” Ras spoke up from where he had sat back down. His hammer was in his lap. “Or, so I assume.”

As Jay scoffed, saying something about how the ninja were stupid for trying to worm into his brain like that, Arin stopped to think about this.

Jay used to be a ninja. He may not remember any of it, or want to remember it, but he was still a strong fighter. And, if he could play his cards right with Ras, a good additional teacher. If Ras taught Jay how to fight, then Jay could give him some further tips. And, well, they both hated the ninja right now, and looked up to Ras for guidance. Despite it all, Jay was the best ally one could ask for in their current circumstances.

Ignoring the fact that the Gong of Shattering definitely did something to Jay’s morality. One gong probably didn’t hurt too much, right?

And… Jay used to be Agent Walker - the Manager of the Realm Reassignment division. If anyone knew where Arin’s parents were, it’d be Jay.

As the ex-ninja moved to sit by the fire, Arin hurried to sit next to him. Maybe he didn’t have to abandon all his former heroes. He’ll keep this one. “Hey, Jay?”

“Hm?” Jay hummed in question, grabbing a fruit from the pile Arin had gathered and biting into it raw (and making a face when it tasted like mush, as all of those fruits do). 

“When… when you worked at the Administration,” he frowned, fiddling his hands together, “did you happen to see my parents?”

Jay swallowed his bite of fruit down and raised an eyebrow. “Uh?”

“They look like me,” Arin added. “Black hair, dark eyes - Dad has a bit of a beard, Mom’s hair was short…”

He trailed off, but Jay gave an unsure snort. “Kid, if I remembered every single person who came by the department, I think I could easily replace the first two decades of my life with that. My memory’s bad enough as is.”

Arin tried not to sound too disappointed when he sighed. “Oh…”

As if sensing he made a mistake, Jay clicked his tongue. “Gimme enough time, I’ll try to remember. Two humans, short black hair, look like you, gotcha.”

“You’d try and remember?” Arin asked hopefully. He hoped his relief was evident on his face. 

Jay rolled his eyes. “Yea, yea. Least I can do for my teammate.” He gave Arin a once-over. “You don’t look like a half-bad fighter. Lemme finish up this fruit and let’s spar.”

Arin grinned. “Sure!”

He looked over at Ras, who nodded his approval. He got up and started doing stretches. He was one step closer to finding his parents. And, maybe, siding with Ras and Jay for the long run wasn’t such a horrible idea after all.

[quirkwizard]

Battle Report: A Retrospective on the Final War Arc

The Final War Arc is finally over. It's been a wild ride. And while I had my issues with it, I ultimately think was a good arc. I think it may go somewhere in the 7/10 to 8/10 range for my tier list of arcs. Who knows though. With all of that done though, I wanted to take a chance to look back on this arc and talk about what's transpired. Now, is this a little premature? Kind of. At the time of writing and posting this, the epilogue is still going on. The series has not ended and any of my complaints may be null and void after all of this is over. However, the arc is massive. It's eighty chapters long with dozens of plotlines and characters all mashing up against one another. I want to take the time out of focus on everything that has happened and leave the epilogue to it's own post.

And with that context, it is a lot to cover. Even if it's not the epilogue, it's still everything from chapter 343 to 423. So this post is going to be more disjointed, stream of conscious writing about my thoughts on specific parts of the arc that are worth talking about instead of doing some deep dive on the whole thing. Sure, I think the civilian stuff with Eri and everyone else in the bunker is nice in it's own way and I think how the pilots are used is hilarious, but that isn't enough for me to talk about. If you want me to discuss something in particular or expand on something here, I may talk about it later or add it to the post. With all of that being cleared up, my retrospective on the finale of the Final War Arc.

Shoto vs Dabi: This is the first fight of the arc, and we are definitely starting strong. I've already gushed about how much I enjoy this bit ever since it happened, so I will keep this brief. Of course, seeing Dabi back and all of his spiteful glory is great. Though, if we're being honest, the real start is Shoto and his new Super Move. The Phospher reveal is such a cool power-up for Shoto, and it works great in so many ways. It's a unique and clever way to counteract Dabi's firepower without just trying to overpower him. And it all leads to this beautiful and distinct art of flowing ice. It's so cool. And the best part is that it acts as the perfect cap to his character arc of trying to define himself, combining the two halves of himself into a combination that is completely his own. That's not even getting into the numerous references to phosphor, giving this even more depth.

All For One vs Endeavor: In spite of having a lot of focus, I don't have a lot to say about the forest fight. It's a lot of the same stuff as the Tomura fight, though not as egregious. I will say that I think Enji's bits in this arc are rather underrated. Having Enji fight All For One is a good way to wrap up that part of this character, finally growing past his own insecurities relating to Izuku and All Might while still achieving something that would make him worthy of being the top pro. The flashback about his father dying saving someone adds so much context to who Endeavor is as a person, and I'm really glad we got it. And having Endeavor burn away the past version of himself is such a cool image and a good moment for his character. Honestly, I think Enji continues his hot streak as one of the best written characters in this story.

Tomura vs Everyone: I didn't much care for this part. It felt very repetitive. Characters attack Tomura. It doesn't do anything. Tomura starts monologuing. Repeat. They couldn't do anything to Tomura, but as Hori has shown, he's reluctant to kill off named characters. It's why, despite getting ragdolled, none of them died. It didn't feel like the threat of death was looming over any of them, making this big battle feel relatively low-stakes. So we're stuck in this cycle of Tomura beating all of them up for dozens of chapters, only for neither side to really get anywhere. It feels like we're stalling. That Hori simply needed Izuku out of the picture to delay the final fight for him and Tomura. Which, sure, I get, but he could have at least made what was happening with Tomura more interesting. What's worse is that this is so much time spent with AFO Tomura. A character who isn't nearly as interesting as some of his parts and is a watered-down version of both.

Spinner's Assault: This is by far the worst part of the entire finale. Let's ignore the politics and message and how they may or may not apply to the real world. This mini-arc is focused on Koda, Shoji, and Spinner. All characters I like to varying degrees, but none feel like they have earned this kind of focus. The whole mutant discrimination plotline feels woefully underdeveloped, so having it be the center point of this part feels jarring. And saying it only happens outside the city is such a handwave. Not only does that make no sense, as bigotry can happen just as much, if not more, in metro areas, but it has little showing within the world. Hori, if you wanted to set this up, maybe you should have actually had some major focus on stories out of the city. So having so much time dedicated to it just feels wasteful and frustrating. I could go on a longer rant, but I will save it for another time.

Bakugou's "Death": What a waste. Come on now, did any of you really think Bakugou died here? Or would stay dead? And having his resurrection tied to his clustered sweat feels like a slap in the face of Edgeshot. The guy who reduced himself to a thin string just to save Bakugou's life. On that note, having Edgeshot be the one to save Bakugou feels… out of place. Edgeshot is a pretty minor character with no connection to Bakugou. Many figured that this sudden change would lead to some boost for Bakugou, but it didn't. So why Edgeshot? Why couldn't Best Jeanist be the one to do it, the one that is more important to both Bakugou and the audience? And this doesn't feel like a major change for Bakugou. If you have your character die and come, there should be some greater change to them or how they act, but it doesn't. At least, nothing as major as a death and resurrection should have. The biggest effect it has is on Tomura, bringing him out of the control of All For One, and Izuku, showing that he wouldn't lose control and break again. Once again, Bakugou's grievous injury is more important to the characters around him.

Rewound All For One: One of the more controversial parts of the arc. Is it a reach for Garaki to make the drug? Kind of. Is it annoying to still have All For One around? To a degree. Does it lead to some frustrating moments like All For One not unleashing his biggest area-clearing attack to start with when he knows he's on a time limit? Yes. However, I ultimately feel as though this does more good for the story than bad. By giving All For One this timer, it gives him a more definitive weakness to exploit and a ticking counter in the form of his body degenerating. And by keeping him around, it gives him a chance to go against Endeavor, Toshinori, and Bakugou. That way, they're completing their own arcs without feeling like any of their efforts are wasted or overstepping each other's time in the ring with All For One.

Dabi's Quirk: This is going to be a more personal annoyance, but I'm really frustrated with how Hori handled Dabi's Quirk. First off, him instantly using Shoto's technique against him is such nonsense. You're telling me that seeing it is enough for him to replicate it with no training?And him suddenly making ice for himself also makes zero sense. He hasn't shown anything like that before, and nothing about his power implies that he could. And don't tell me it's literally Rei's Quirks, but that makes even less sense. I could explain that as an evolution of his ice resistance, but that's more me trying to make sense of it. Could you justify it as being Shoto's sibling and their powers having similar mechanics and traits? Sure, but a lot of it comes across more as a convivence to keep Dabi's corpse moving. At least his design is cool.

Wasted Students: While the manga actually does a good job of distributing attention, there are some students that I feel were shafted. A special mention goes to Sero, Ojiro, and Sato, whom Hori pretty obviously just shoved together to get them out of the way. The ones I'm thinking about are Iida and Momo. Momo was one of the 1-A characters who had some arc, so having her be relegated to a living printer feels wasteful. However, I can at least forgive this a little. Her moment was during the PLF War, and her position makes sense. But shoot, Tenya was done dirty in this arc. He doesn't have any really cool moments of his own and very little in the way of character moments. I thought he was going to have something done with Stain, but no. Most of his time in this arc is spent supporting Shoto, quite literally in the case of the Ice Jet maneuver. Wait, why was he even fighting Dabi? Tenya himself admits he's a bad match for this, so why was he there? 

Shiketsu Students: This is one of the few moments in the arc that actually surprised me, and it's a welcome surprise at that. As someone who thought that the Shiketsu students were interesting but underdeveloped, it was cool seeing them act as reinforcements. What was even a better surprise was Camie's "Glamour" trick with the fake Hawks. That has got to be the funniest movement in this entire arc, bar none. Of the three, Inasa gets the most focus, and I think he does pretty well with it. While I do like his soft cap on his arc with the Todoroki's, reflecting his growth as well as their own, I really enjoy how much he just shuts All For One down this arc. All For One is trying to do these big speeches and one-liners, and Inasa is out here yelling him down like any other two-bit criminal. It's equal parts hilarious and awesome.

Tokoyami:  On the flip side of my statement about students, I think Tokoyami is really good in this arc. Tokoyami is one of the less prominent characters in terms of development and actual emotional moments to support him. The arc did a good job of giving him some kind of arc for his character. About how he sees his powers and how hard they are to control. And I'm going to be totally transparent here, I just think full-power Dark Shadow is really cool. There isn't anything deep or nuanced here. Seeing this giant shadow mecha loom over the whole battlefield and make All For One go pale is super sick. It's not just all action and character, either. He probably had one of the best reactions to anything ever in the whole series when illusion Hawks "died". So in spite of my issues with the other students, at least Tokoyami was done well.

The Big Three: Yeah, I didn't really care for what was happening with a lot of the Big Three. They ultimately fall into the same issues as everyone else in the UA Battle Zone that I talked about before. And while their massive railgun attack was cool on paper, it all amounted to nothing. It all feels like such pointless fluff to tide the user's over. It's not even like they have anything interesting going on character-wise, either. Mirio is easily the biggest victim of this. Ever since Mirio got his Quirk back, he hasn't really been given any chance to act outside of the costume or really be his own character. Seriously, the biggest moment he has is him acting as the butt of the joke in order to distract Tomura so Izuku can get in. Was there really no better way to do that? And as much as I want to remember him for other stuff he did, like yelling at Izuku, there really isn't anything else that sticks out.

Gearshift: Again, a more personal gripe, but one that bugs me a lot. I really don't like "Gearshift" as a power. Like "Fa Jin", it doesn't feel like it expands on any of Izuku's capabilities, only doubling down on what is already there. Unlike "Fa Jin", this had way more potential that went unused. Being able to alter the speed of an object or person is such an interesting concept. And for all of the hype surrounding it, it doesn't feel like it's used to its full potential. Really? We couldn't think of a better Quirk for him. Or at least come up with something more interesting for this one to do? All it's used for is to give a power boost to Izuku and make him go faster. The only time it's used to do anything else is when he uses it to speed up Bakugou. Why couldn't we get more stuff like that? Or at least maybe giving it a chance to interact with Izuku's other quirks for combinations?

Gigantomachia Battle: I like this well enough. As much as the reappearance of what's his face frustrates me, that's more of a carryover from my problems with Midnight's death and not the fault of this arc. It's a good follow-up for the brief arc with Mina and I like how much her new move ties into their growth with its name. Plus, it gave Shinso a cool moment that felt natural without stepping on anyone else's toes. I will say that I'm pretty confused at the sudden turn with Gigantomachia, who only really seems mournful over what All For One did once. And the one time he did, it seemed more regretful that someone as pathetic as Tomura was the successor. Otherwise, he just seemed like a loyal thug without much personality.

Todorokis vs Dabi: For the dramatic resolution of the Todoroki family storyline, I find myself having very little say about it. It's good. I really like seeing the feral, demented version of Dabi who is barely held together. Enji's lines about people watching him and taking responsibility become twisted with Dabi's view of him and his actions. I like the monologue Shoto gives as he's flying to stop Dabi. I guess my issue is that the rest of it doesn't stand out as much to me. And the actual resolution doesn't feel any different from the way Shoto fought him. It came across like the earlier fight with him was just there to keep him occupied so Enji could fight All For One and didn't serve any real purpose for the characters. That there needed to be this resolution for everyone else in the Todoroki family and for Dabi as well, but doing it like this lessens some of the punch. 

Uraraka vs Toga: One of my favorite parts of the arc. This entire section was such a dark horse for me, someone who didn't put a lot of stock in the Uraraka and Toga storyline. It shocked me how invested I was in the fight. Just seeing how hard Uraraka fights is so enthralling to watch, going through so much to help Toga. And this is one of the few points in the series where Awakenings work, with an Awakening that actually feels earned and relevant to the character at that. All because she wanted to help and connect with Toga in order to save her. And if Toga did die here, I wouldn't mind because I think it fits. She was able to live and die as her own person, making her own choices. All in all, it's a highlight of the arc and a great capstone for both of the characters.

Aoyama's Section: Why does Aoyama have so much focus on him? I don't dislike Aoyama, and I'm glad one of the more minor characters is getting attention in a way that feels relevant to who they are. I just don't think he really needed this much space to himself, having his own battlefield and major villain to fight, with little to no other focus on other characters. Having him stand up against All For One felt like more than enough of a final beat for his character arc. It was him acting in spite of his fears, facing down the scariest person in the entire series. Hagakure's presence bugs me here as well, since it just reeks of convivence. And man, giving out yet another Awakening? Were these not supposed to be rare? It's yet another example of an Awakening that barely feels any different from before and doesn't feel earned.

Toshinori Yagi vs All For One: Unlike a lot of fans, I wasn't as bothered by this part. On paper, Toshinori fighting All For One with a massive mecha suit kind of flies in the face of one of the core ideas of the series. That people without Quirks cannot be heroes. However, the story makes it clear that this is something that cannot stand up against All For One, requires all the resources of his decades of hero work, has decades of experience as the top hero, and he's only doing as well because he's fighting All For One because he's acting irrationally. My only reservation is that All Might is using parts inspired by the students. While I think these are cool, it seems like this is supposed to be his big moment as a teacher. And... I guess the story wants us to believe that. I don't know. It feels like Hori hasn't really put in enough work to have this be a satisfying payoff. He only really has two or so scenes involving the other students outside of Izuku. I believe he's a proper mentor to Izuku, sure, but as a real teacher for the whole class? Not really. Don't get me wrong, the idea and execution of it were fine, but the set-up needed more legwork.

Stain's "Moment": Yeah, this is something I can't forgive. Stain is such a major figure in My Hero Academia, both in and out of universe. He's the guy who changed the whole trajectory of the story and brought a whole new level of respect for the story. Hori brings him back to restore Toshinori's motivation and give them plans for All For One. And then he comes in for a big moment in the final fight. Only to be ragdolled, having accomplished nothing. There was no final moment of sacrifice, no heroic last stand. Just slapped aside and exploded. Not only does All For One's escaping feel like a mass convenience, just so happening to have a Quirk to push all the blood out of his body, but it's so disappointing for Stain. It feels like an afterthought. Like Hori remembered that Stain was around and threw him in to die. He doesn't even get a moment in the ghost realm. Come on, Hori. If you went through the trouble of having his Quirk stolen, why not do something more with it?

All For One's Backstory: Yeah, I still think this part of the story is hilarious. This is so over the top and dark that it comes full circle into being funny again. All For One's backstory feels like some edgy teenager fanfiction. Like he was born to a drug-addled mother, literally drained the life out of her to the point she died. He was nearly eaten by rats at birth, he was the real first Quirk user, he's been killing people since he was four years old. It was to the point that I thought All For One was lying about it to make himself seem cooler or more inhuman than he really was. But no, we're actually supposed to believe all of this and take it seriously. I really have to wonder what Hori was thinking with this. Is it supposed to show All For One as evil to the core? But doesn't that go against the idea that it's nurture over nature? Or maybe it's to show that the worst circumstances made the worst evil? Okay, then why is All For One so unapologetically evil, supposedly even before he was born?

Bakugou vs All For One: I find myself having very little to say about any of this. It's a big-ole fight scene with Bakugou and All For One. It doesn't feel like it really completes anything from Bakugou arc outside of his hang-up with All For One and All Might retiring. Yeah, I'm glad it got tied up and that Bakugou got to save Toshinori, but it hasn't felt all that relevant to his overall arc. Maybe I'm downplaying this a lot more than I should, but that's just how I see it. The only major hangup I have is with the whole "people wanting it bad enough changed the future for All Might." I chose to interpret this as more metaphorical than literal. Like everything that's motivating Bakugou is pushing him forward, or that all of the steps everyone took up to this point defied fate. Otherwise, we are getting into some stuff the series never talks about and never explains. At least this fight gave us the "Bakugou deals bonus damage to children" meme.

Dream Hawks: Okay, this isn't so much a real problem, but I feel like this is a big missed opportunity: why isn't Stain the one getting the vestiges to rebel? You know, the guy who had such focus and determination that he was able to ward off an entire squad of top heroes from attacking him with sheer force of will. The guy who ironically sparked a whole villain renaissance with his words about the rot at the core of the world of heroes. It'd give his death some purpose and give him one final amazing scene against All For One, giving him a chance to redeem himself after all the problems he caused the world with his dogma. Ironically, he'd be dying a hero and stopping one of the biggest threats to the world. But sure, give another scene to Hawks. It's not like he's been already been a heavy focus of the arc.

Izuku vs Tomura: We've been waiting for this fight for a while, and it did not disappoint me. Not only is the part where we finally get Tomura back, immediately making this fight far more enjoyable, but the fight itself is so cool. You can feel the struggle, exhaustion, and desperation in each of Izuku's panels. We get to see more of feral Izuku. Who doesn't want to see more of feral Izuku? What's better is that we actually get Izuku using some interesting strategies against Tomura, like pushing up the rocks to stop the spread of "Decay" while using it as cover to perform a counter attack. And having this be topped off with the sacrifice of "One For All" makes this all feel that much more harrowing of an experience, with Izuku piece and piece of himself just at a chance of victory. It's one of the few final fights of a series where I was actually worried about the main character.

Shared Dreamspace: This might just be my favorite moment in the whole arc. We get all the shared visions as our two protagonists begin to understand each other more. And for all of this talking, it never once tries to excuse Tomura for what he did. Even Tomura talks about how he doesn't regret what he's doing or why he's destroying everything. He's doing it all for himself and the League. And while Izuku can understand this, he can't condone it, and it doesn't excuse what Tomura did. It's a good way for both sides to get their points across in order to get some kind of resolution without feeling like it's breaking either of them. It's all about understanding and learning from each other, which is what this conflict has been all about. It's all so well done and pretty much exactly how I imagined a confrontation like this would go down between these two.

All For One's Return: Is it kind of frustrating that All For One has returned yet again? Sure. I can understand people getting sick and tired of him, now more than ever. However, I think it's explained well enough not to bother me, and ultimately, the only way for the story to have its cake and eat it as well. It's a clean way to remove Tomura from the story without having to dirty Izuku's hands. Tomura has made it pretty clear that he has zero intention of ever stopping, and redemption was not on the table for him. It also gives Izuku a final fight against All For One, who, while not as personal to Izuku, is the biggest evil in the series. On top of that, it fits with the idea of everyone coming together to be the greatest hero by getting their licks in on All For One. It's what the story has been pushing for the whole time: One For All fighting back against All For One.

Oboro, Aizawa, and Yamada: As much as I wanted to get excited about this part, it did feel woefully undercooked. Oboro's condition and Aizawa and Present Mic's reaction to it feel pretty minor in the grand scheme of things. They only get one chapter to hash things out, and it feels very rushed. Which is odd because it has some of the biggest impact on the arc itself, with Kurogiri teleporting everyone around and being the lynchpin in the two major paradigm shifts in the arc. It's Spinner's whole motivation for attacking the hospital, it removed Aizawa from the playing field at UA, and it ends up sending all of the doubles from the island to the fight in the forest. What we got was nice, especially Kurogiri saying he wants Tomura back when they are all fighting All For One, but sadly, it wasn't enough.

The Final Run-Up: Look, I am the biggest sucker for moments like this. Izuku is still standing in spite of losing both arms. Then everyone is coming out of the portals to the final fight, all firing out their attacks to go down. It's like Endgame, but actually thematically relevant to everyone coming together to beat the greatest threat to the world. And the part where all the good guys are helping the protagonist forward just so they can deliver that final blow. I can't help but feel hyped up as each of the other students and heroes fight back against All For One. We get All For One going out like a total punk. And we can share a final vision between Tomura and Izuku. I cannot say anything analytical or in-depth about this. I just think it hits all these different sweet spots in me while still ending things on a good note, and it brings me so much joy.