#it was a good run but a worthy opponent to be defeated by

[mysteryninjasweaterdork]

[thebabblingbrookenook]

Love To Hate You

Pairings: Anthony Bridgerton x Female Reader

Summary: Anthony Bridgerton has been your favorite rival since college. Nothing gets your blood pumping quite like getting under his skin. No matter how much you love to see him squirm, you hate the defeated look on his face at someone else's hands. You never thought you'd see the day when your only worthy opponent would become you're most exciting conquest.

Warnings: 18 & Older - Oral, Rough Sex, Degradation, Praise, Strong Language, Spanking

Word Count: 5.6k

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Three days.

                That’s how long this merger had been at a standstill.  You’d spent the last 72 hours listening to a room full of grown men performing a metaphorical dick measuring. It was a miracle that your eyes weren’t permanently rolled to the back of your head.

                The only thing keeping you from telling your pompous asshole of a boss to swallow his pride and make a few concessions was the palpable irritation radiating off the man seated across from you at the conference table.

                Anthony Bridgerton.

                Since your college days, you had lived to needle this man. He wore every expression clear as day across his annoyingly handsome face. It was so easy to rile him up, and even more rewarding to spar with him when he came back at you with his sharp, alluring tongue. He had proven himself a worthy opponent – someone who was not only willing to play with you, but who was capable of leaving you a panting, sweaty mess under his designer shoe.

                The crease between his brow deepened with every idiotic word that left his associate’s arrogant mouth. Something about this man’s tone pissed you off. He spoke with the authority that Anthony was allowing him to possess, but it fit him just as poorly as that knock-off suit that stretched too tightly across his bulky shoulders. He would never wear that power like Anthony. Anthony earned his arrogance and wore it like the fucking king he was.

                This guy needed to be humbled in an embarrassingly public way. Bonus points for the emasculation he’d feel once you shredded his ego to a bloody pulp with the ace you were hiding up your sleeve. Not only would this shut up the blundering idiot still talking out of his ass, but it would also piss Anthony the fuck off. It wasn’t hard to imagine the shade of red the tips of his ears would turn as he tried to reign in his temper.

                Squeezing your thighs together under the table to suppress your arousal, you turned to your rival with a knowing smirk.

 “Bridgerton, I knew you were reckless, but I never thought you were sloppy. You’ve clearly taken your eye off your company if you’re letting Vickers here run unsupervised around your kingdom.”

                His shoulders stiffened in delicious frustration at the sound of your voice, but his lips turned up mischievously as he took you in.

“Careful, darling. Do you really want to play that game? I can assure you; my eyes see all.” The aforementioned eyes slid down to where your legs were pressing together in desperation beneath the table. “Every. Single. Detail.”

Fuck. Why did his voice have to be so hot?

Shake it off, bitch. Your pussy can get hers later. Right now, you need to focus on your takedown.

“Oh, is that so?” You smiled back at him, willing him to take the bait.

You didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on your chest just a moment more than was polite.

“I’m a man of my word sweetheart. And control is my drug of choice.”

Oh, this was too good. He was about to lose his mind when you yanked away his high and sent him spiraling into a bad trip.

“So, you were aware that your associate signed contract amendments on your behalf? And if I had to guess, he didn’t read them fully because according to these documents… Anthony Bridgerton consented to the 40% increase over the first 12 months. And then an additional 20% based on profit margins.”

The color drained from his face as your words hit home. A chill ran down your spine at his utterly lethal expression. You were used to his irritation. Intimately familiar with his anger… but this was different.

You could feel it the moment the last shred of restraint left his body. His already dark eyes turned almost black when he fixed them on his target.

“Is this true, Luther?” His voice was deceptively calm, but you could sense the predator lurking beneath the surface.

“Of course not,” Luther lied. “Are you really going to believe this manipulative bitch over me? That’s what she does. Why do you think Morrison hired her firm for legal representation. She’s a lying cun- …”

“STOP TALKING!” Anthony roared. “Finish that sentence and I will shove my foot so far up your ass you’ll be tasting leather.”

The room was deafeningly quiet now. A rush of wetness flooded between your legs when Anthony turned his gaze to you, and you couldn’t stop the little gasp that escaped your lips. Anthony may have gotten his high from control, but you thrived on chaos. And this was the very definition of playing with fire.

“Contracts…” he said, thrusting his hand toward you in a demand.

Victory was all but dancing in your eyes as you slid the papers under his waiting fingertips. Checkmate. This round went to you,

After a diligent assessment of his forged signature, his fingers curled into fists, crumpling the paper in his grasp.

It would be easy to prove the signatures invalid, voiding the contract and rendering it moot. But God, was it worth it to bask in the absolute manic energy he was barely keeping contained.

That simply wouldn’t do. You wanted to see him erupt.

You were in the midst of your plan to stoke the flames when Luther all but did the work for you,

“She’s lying Anthony! Come on, mate. You know me!”

“I do know you,” Anthony deadpanned. “You’re the same conniving, slippery bastard you’ve always been. And we are most certainly not mates. Apparently, you’re also a moron! Do you honestly believe I can’t decipher between my own signature and a fraud? It’s right fucking here in bold black ink, you twat!”

Luther opened his mouth to argue like the true dunce he was, but Anthony silenced him with his glare alone. The danger in his slow, deep voice all but purred over my skin.

“Get. The fuck. Out of my sight.”

“You can’t just fire me! I helped you build this fucking company. You’re nothing without me, Bridgerton!”

“I can, and I just did.” His careful, composed mask was slipping back into place and you already missed his rage. “You’re done here Luther. There won’t be a single person in this industry willing to work with you after I’m through.”

Shoving back forcefully, Luther pushed up from his rolling chair and straight into the woman carrying a try full of coffee orders for the room. It all happened so fast and there was absolutely nothing anyone could do to stop it.

The tray flung from her hands, dumping its contents onto Anthony’s broad chest and waiting lap. He stood abruptly, cursing under his breath, hands frantically trying to shoo the scalding liquid from his body.

When the woman’s hands reached out to assist him, your entire body froze. She was touching him, and you fucking hated it. You were also unsure of how he would react to the blunder. Luther deserved his wrath, but this poor girl did not.

Your heart did something funny in your chest when he gently gripped the wrists of the panicked, trembling woman in front of him.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Bridgerton! It was an accident. Are you okay?!”

“Jeannine…” he soothed. “Jeannine, it’s okay. I’m perfectly fine. Maybe a little wet, but unharmed. So, there’s no need for tears.”

Ugh… Now she was looking at him like she’d just fallen in love with him. You mean, kind of like you were 30 seconds ago? Shut up, brain! Don’t look at me like that. You saw nothing, and I don’t want to talk about it.

Anthony rubbed his hands up her arms to reassure her once more. “I could use a new set of clothes. Could you send for something for me?”

She beamed at him. “Of course, sir. I’ll get anything you’d like. That’s what I’m here for.”

Eye roll. Of course she had called him sir. And he undoubtedly loved every second of it.

“Thank you, Jeaninne. You’re truly invaluable. You know my sizes, and you know what I like, so I have no doubt you’ll choose something that flatters me.”

“That won’t be hard to do,” she blushed up at him.

His answering smile made you want to smack it right off his face. Charming bastard.

“Buy yourself something as well. Anything you want. Cost is no problem. I fear your pretty white blouse is ruined now.”

Yeah, you scoffed. Ruined and conveniently see through.

Jeaninne gave him one last embarrassed smile before retreating from the room. Before she reached the door he called after her.

“Oh, and Jeaninne… If you wouldn’t mind calling security to have them escort Mr. Vickers from premises.”

She replied with a nervous nod before fleeing the room.

You could cut the remaining tension with a knife. Everyone unsure of how to breach the standoff.

Predictably, it was my boss, lulled into a false sense of superiority, who decided to brave speaking.

“Well, well… It looks like the infallible Anthony Bridgerton isn’t invincible after all. It seems my attorney has managed to get underneath all your armor and hit her mark. How does it feel, Bridgerton?”

“How does what feel?” Anthony feigned interest, still wiping coffee from his trousers.

“To know you’re no better than the rest of us mere mortals. You’re just an arrogant boy who was handed his daddy’s company when he didn’t deserve it. Edmund would have never made a mistake like that one.”

Shit.

A small fleck of insecurity washed over Anthony’s features. He recovered quickly, but you saw it. It was an expression that was so out of place on him that for a split second he looked like another person entirely. Someone younger. Less larger than life, and more vulnerable.

It made you uncomfortable. You were the only one who was allowed to push Anthony’s buttons, and even you never wanted to tear him down that far.

Anthony opened his mouth, no doubt to tell your rotund boss to fuck all the way off, but it was your own voice that filled your ears.

“That’s enough! Mr. Morrison, you’re out of line. Don’t pretend to know anything of Edmund Bridgerton. That man would never have even granted you an audience. That’s how beneath him you would have found yourself. If I were you, I’d consider yourself grateful for even getting through the door.”

This meeting was getting out of control quickly. If you knew Anthony, and you believed you did, he was about to cut his losses and scrap the entire deal. He didn’t need this partnership. He wanted it, but he sure as fuck didn’t need it. And from where you sat, that was a dangerous place to be.

If you wanted to cash that big, fat commission check that only came after the ink was dried, you needed to do damage control.

“I think we need to take a breather. Everyone out!”

Mr. Morrison actually had the gall to laugh in your face.

“And I think you need to learn your place. I like you because you’re such a ball busting bitch but make no mistake – I’m the one in charge here. I pay you, not the other way around. So, I suggest you sit down and shut up while the men finish their conversation.”

The air in the room was charged with barely restrained fury. Whether it was yours or his, you couldn’t be sure. Mr. Morrison may have started this war, but Anthony Bridgerton was the one who finished it.

“Speak to her like that again and not only will I cancel this partnership, but I will buy your company outright and dismantle it piece by piece. I’ll sell it for parts while you watch your life’s work burn to ash. Did you think I didn’t know your proposal was a measure of last resort for you? I don’t need you, Mr. Morrison. Make no mistake – I’m the one with the real power here. From my vantage point, you’re the one who needs to learn their place.

Holy fuck…

If Mr. Morrison didn’t get the hell out of this room immediately, he was going to become intimately acquainted with your naked body, because – HOT DAMN! You were pretty sure it was the part of the story where the enemies were about to become lovers.

The look on Morrison’s face would have been funny if your clit wasn’t throbbing to within an inch of its life!

Walking to the door, you opened it and stepped aside, gesturing for him to make himself scarce.  “We can reconvene on Monday. I think calmer heads will yield the best results, don’t you?”

It surprised you when he didn’t try to argue. Anthony’s threat must have done its job.

Closing the door behind him, you locked it and tapped the high-tech keypad to cloak the space in privacy. The floor to ceiling glass immediately turned opaque and the sounds from the surrounding offices disappeared into silence.

You turned to find Anthony leaning against the large boardroom table, arms crossed over his toned chest. His eyes narrowed on you when you took a step towards him.

“I know you’re pleased with yourself, but I didn’t take you for the type to stick around to gloat.”

What a clueless jackass… He had no idea what was about to happen. The two of you had never crossed this line before, but you didn’t think you could survive another second in his presence without your mouth on him. Did he not feel this too?

God, this was going to be so embarrassing if he rejected you. It was a very real possibility. It would make perfect sense with the antagonizing nature of your relationship for him to even the playing field. Was it wrong that it turned you on even more to think about him putting you in your place?

“Shut the hell up, Bridgerton, and take off your pants.” Straight to the point was always the best approach with this man.

Genuine surprise colored his cheeks.

“I beg your pardon?!”

“You have been a raging dick for the past three days. If that vein in your neck is any indication, you’re going to stroke out before we can finish this deal. I’ve put way too much work into this project and spent way too much time in a room filled with guys staring at my tits for me not to get this bonus check. Now, take your fucking pants off so I can suck some of that stress out of you.”

“You’ve been thinking about my raging dick for the last three days, haven’t you?”

The smug turn of his perfect fucking mouth was almost enough to make you change your mind. It felt a bit too much like he was gaining the upper hand.

“And you’ve been thinking about my ass bent over your desk since I stepped foot in here on Wednesday. Don’t act like you don’t stroke yourself to sleep at night to thought of hate fucking me.”

Your fingers went to the buttons on your blouse and started to slowly reveal the lacey black bra beneath. You felt him go still.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice dropping to a sinful register.

“Giving you a better look,” you smirked “Every time I looked up today your eyes were on my tits. Touch them. They feel even better than they look.”

“You’re being serious right now…” he quipped. “What makes you think I would ever want to touch you?”

“Well, for starters,” you said, inclining your head toward his straining crotch. “Your cock looks like it wants to tear through those trousers to get to me. Or had you not noticed?”

You watched, mesmerized as his hand came up to rub himself over the restrictive fabric. Those pants were your new arch nemesis.

“If you want to rid me of my stress, it would be as easy as getting in your car and not coming back. You are the absolute bane of my existence, you know that?”

His surly words were doing nothing but egging you on.

“Maybe…” you purred, stepping into his space. You brought his warm, strong hands up to splay out over your waist. “But I’m also the object of all your desires.”

He growled in your ear when you leaned down to lick the protruding vein running up the length of his neck.

“This changes nothing between us. I still think you are the most infuriating woman on the planet.”

The heat of him looming against your stomach was too much to resist. Your fingers gripped him firmly until you felt him twitch in your palm.

“Are you going to fuck me or not, Bridgerton? If not, I think I saw your brother at the end of the hall when I closed the door.”

You made to pull away from him when his hand locked around the back of your neck, pressing you firmly into the sizable bulge resting between you.

“Don’t you fucking dare. We both know you would eat my brother alive. You’re not that kind of cruel.”

“No,” you agreed. “I’m your brand of cruelty, Anthony. I think someone designed me just for you. The arrogant, entitled prick in need of someone to put him in his place. I’m your comeuppance, baby. Now be a good boy and serve your penance.”

His forehead pressed roughly into yours, trapping you to his gaze.

“You never learned how to shut this smart mouth, did you? You’ve been lashing me with that tongue for 10 fucking years.”

The tongue he just accused of bringing him pain jutted out to show him pleasure, stroking over his kissable lips.

“You don’t want me with my mouth closed, Bridgerton.”

“I don’t know,” he teased. “A little peace and quiet might be a nice change.”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. His pupils blew wide when you dropped to your knees in front of him. “You want my mouth wide open, baby. If you want me to shut up, then fucking make me.”

His fingers threaded into your hair yanking your head back to force your attention on his face.

“You are such a fucking brat. You’re practically begging for someone to teach you a lesson. Is that what you want? Do you want to learn your lesson?”

With all the innocence you could muster, you challenged him one last time.

“I’m an exemplary student. I’m hungry for knowledge, sir. Practically ravenous.”

If he was holding on to his restraint before, it was all gone now. His fingers tightened in your hair, sending a pulsing need to your attention hungry cunt.

“Take my dick out and stick out your tongue. I’m going to fuck that pretty face until you’re crying all over my lap. How does that sound? Do you want to choke on this cock for me?”

A whimpered “fuck” left your lips when he sprang free in front of you. You couldn’t think of anything you wanted more right now than to take him down your throat until he was a mindless mess. Licking your hungry lips, you leaned forward eagerly for a taste, but he pulled you back again.

“I asked you a question. Run that mouth one more time and answer me.”

“Yes,” you nodded enthusiastically. “Please, Anthony. I want to choke on your cock. I want to learn my lesson.”

A visible shudder ran through him at your confession.

“Good-fucking- girl. Give me your tongue.”

For once, you obeyed without protest. If you didn’t taste him soon you might actually die.

His hand guided the warm head of his dick along your waiting tongue. His hissed breath matched your rising desire, and you moaned in pleasure. You needed more. What was he waiting for?

“Any day now, Bridgerton.” Antagonizing him was second nature at this point.

With one exasperated thrust, he slid into your mouth effectively cutting off your air supply. His quick, deep pumps had you gulping around his length. Your eyes were already streaming down your face. The fuzzy, euphoric feeling of oxygen deprivation was starting to dance behind your eyes. Your lungs burned with the need to inhale but there was not a chance in hell that you would stop this.

His needy, frantic movements were setting your blood on fire. Your imagination never could have conjured the sounds rumbling from his throat. If this is how you died, you would do so proudly and with a smile on your face. Your tombstone would be emblazoned with bold lettering that you died doing what you were made to do – choking on Anthony Bridgerton’s perfect dick.

Just when you feared that you would have to admit defeat and beg him for mercy, he pulled free from your greedy mouth leaving you a saliva-soaked mess. His labored breathing was going to be your undoing. Getting a rise out of Anthony Bridgerton had always been your preferred pastime, but this way by far your favorite way to do it.

“Is this what you wanted,” he asked. “Do you think you’ve learned your lesson yet?”

You smiled up at him, eager to poke the bear at every turn.

“Nope…” you said, popping the p in a way you knew would annoy him. “You’re a shit teacher, Bridgerton.”

Fire ignited in his rich brown eyes and your pussy all but cried out for help. The promise that one look held was enough to have you clenching around nothing, wishing he was buried inside you.

You let out a groan of satisfaction when he slapped his cock across your face.

“Did I say you could put your tongue away? Stick it back out and leave it there. I won’t tell you again.”

Desperate to taste him again, you did as you were told. He quickly rewarded your obedience with more slaps along your tongue. It was so dirty and debasing, but you loved every minute of it.

His leaking tip was smearing the salty promise of his relief all over your tastebuds. You almost came on the spot when he spit in your open mouth, coating himself thoroughly on your outstretched tongue.

“Wrap your pretty lips around my cock and swallow that.”

For fuck’s sake! You actually might not survive this.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised. “Look how gorgeous you are when you’re doing what you’re told. Now put your hands on my thighs and hold tight. I’m going to ruin all your pretty makeup.”

Before you even had a chance to brace yourself, he was pumping back into your mouth at a relentless pace. It didn’t take him long to find a pattern that was pushing him towards the edge of his release. After a torturous onslaught of punishing thrusts, he rewarded you by holding you down on himself, burying your nose into the hair at the base of his shaft. The scent of him there was blindingly erotic, and you wanted to cover yourself in it. When he thought you had earned a breath, he would drag you off him and leave you gasping for air before starting the pattern over again.

The pressure building at the apex of your thighs was maddening. Removing one of your hands from his thigh, you reached down to ease the aching. No sooner had you moaned in pleasure around his cock did he take it away from you. You instantly felt bereft at his absence.

“Put that hand back on my thigh. I didn’t say you were allowed to touch yourself. That pussy is mine. It’s mine to touch, mine to lick, and mine to fuck.”

Your brain wanted to be obstinate, but your pussy – she wanted to be owned.

But old habits die hard. When he pushed himself back over your tongue, you scraped your teeth along his shaft in warning. It was enough to do damage, but it definitely got his attention.

Sometimes being a brat pays in spades.

Two strong arms snaked around your waist and hauled you to your feet. The abruptness elicited a surprised yelp from you, and you found yourself splayed out face down over the cool surface of the conference table.

His hands found the slit in your tight pencil skirt and ripped upward until the fabric gave way and your panty clad ass was on full display to the room.

The heat from his toned body and his sinful scent invaded all your senses when he folded himself along your back to growl into your ear.

“Why do you insist on testing me?”

Honesty was the only way you could respond.

“Because you’re the only one I’ve found who can handle the challenge. I love that you’re always willing to play with me, Anthony.”

Your hips started to push back into him involuntarily. There was so little separating your neglected, needy cunt from the one thing it wanted most. The tantalizing friction that his rigid erection provided, along with his deep throaty growl was enough to spur you on.

“Come on, Bridgerton. Give it to me. You know you want to.”

“You don’t deserve it after the stunt you just pulled. Only good girls get fucked when they need it.”

You couldn’t help but goad him. “Well, what do obstinate little bitches deserve? I’ve earned my punishment, Ant. Now fucking give it to me before I find someone else to do it for you.”

His leg pushed open your thighs apart even wider leaving you open and vulnerable. It also prevented your throbbing clit from finding even a modicum of relief. The force he used to drag your soaked panties down the ground had your heart racing all over again. You needed him to fuck you into this table until you couldn’t see straight.

His control was slipping again. It wouldn’t take much more to push him past his limit. If you really wanted to, you could have him pounding you with one strategically worded sentence.

As much as you wanted that, you enjoyed your game. You wanted to see what he’d do when left to his own devices.

You screamed, first in shock, and then in pleasure, when his hand smacked against the skin of your ass.

“Fuccckkkkk,” he groaned. “You filthy little whore. You liked that. I can see that hungry, perfect pussy searching for my cock. You’re dripping down your legs, baby.”

Something about the tone of his voice when he called you baby had your heart misbehaving in your chest. It sounded almost reverent. Like he was proud of you for how much your body begged for him.

“Count and tell me you’re sorry,” he instructed.

“One,” you complied. “I’m sorry, Anthony.”

“Tell me why you’re sorry.” His tone was an order.

“I’m sorry you weren’t man enough to handle a little scrape of my teeth.” The rush you got from needling him was unparalleled.

The next blow was even harder than the last and had you lifting onto your toes. If he thought this was a punishment, he was sorely mistaken. You could easily become addicted to his discipline.

“Two,” you moaned. “I’m sorry, Anthony.”

“Tell me why.” The strain in his voice was a dead giveaway to his level of need.

“I’m sorry I embarrassed in front of the boys today. They probably don’t respect you now.”

That earned you a smack right across your dripping core. It was the perfect mixture of pleasure and pain. You felt like you could pass out from the adrenaline rushing through your system.

He asked you again and again why you were sorry, and each time you provoked him a little more. Your entire backside burned with the memories of the sensations his hands had left on you.

He asked you a final time.

“Why are you sorry, baby? Be honest.”

“Honestly,” you paused, braving your next words. “I’m not sorry. Not even a little bit. We should have done this a long time ago.”

One big hand curled around your throat and lifted your back to his front. His lips crashed into yours for a searing kiss. His other hand slid down your stomach and pressed into your clit with the perfect pressure. His fingers circled you as you moaned into mouth.

“Anthony,” you cried. “Please, fuck me. I need you. I can’t take it anymore.”

His body pushed yours back down to the tabletop and with one swift movement he was buried to the hilt. The stretch was exquisite. How had you gone so long without knowing the feeling of his cock moving inside you? That had to be some sort of crime against humanity.

You were both too far gone. It was impossible to savor it. It was quick, filthy, and hurt in the best way possible. His hips drove you so hard into the edge of the table that the bruises were likely already forming. The sounds the two of you made together were obscene. Skin slapping against skin. The desperate protest your wet heat made when he left your body for a fraction of a second and the whimpered thank you it made when you clutched him back into you.

His voice was the thing that truly sealed your fate. He was vocal and he wasn’t shy about it. His groans. His curses. His generous praise. He left no room for doubt. You were bringing him pleasure and he was lost to the euphoria.

“Fuck! Oh, fuck…” he hissed. “I’m gonna come. Come for me baby. Milk this cock with your tight little cunt.”

As if on command, you could feel the orgasm begin to swell. Your muscles clamped down on him, holding him prisoner inside you. You pulsed around him, and you could feel him get impossibly stiffer as he spilled himself into you.

“Yes. Yessss,” he cried out. “That’s it baby. Ride it out. I’m right there with you. You feel so fucking good.”

Breathing was hard, and your legs were seconds away from giving out on you. You winced at the pain when he pulled from your body. His release trying to follow suit, dripping down your thighs. You were a fucking mess.

His fingers collected your combined orgasms, pushing it back inside.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tutted. “You’re going to keep all of my cum right where it belongs. I’m claiming this fucking cunt, baby.”

His fingers moved from your core to your lips. They were slicked with the evidence of what the two of you had just done.

“Suck,” he ordered.

You were done fighting him. At least for today.

Opening wide, you sucked his fingers into your mouth and tasted the two of you together on your tongue. A little hum of pleasure was all you could express. He had well and truly fucked you.

“Good girl.”

He straightened your body, righting your clothes and wiping the hair back from your sweaty face.

“Don’t move. Stay just like that.”

He moved away from you, gathering something from the other end of the table. When he reappeared at your side, it was with his phone. He pulled the camera up to snap a photo of your sex drunk face and then lifted your skirt again to document the damage he did to your ass.

“You look perfect. Absolutely wrecked.” He turned the phone to show you the picture.

He was right about the wrecked part. Your mascara was streaked all down your face, and your lips were swollen and red from the rough assault he made on your mouth. And you had the matching red hand shaped wilts on your ass cheeks to go with it.

“You’re welcome,” you teased.

“For what, exactly?” He was trying and failing to hide his smile

“I told you I could suck the stress out of you. You look much more relaxed now. Borderline happy even. It’s kind of creeping me out.”

His next words took you by surprise.

“Thank you.”

A loud buzz sounded and Jeaninne’s voice filtered into the room.

“Mr. Bridgerton… Your clothes have arrived, and your lunch is waiting for you in your office. I ordered your favorite.”

You couldn’t help the eyeroll as you continued to button your top.

“Thank you, Jeaninne. You’re the best.”

“You’re shameless,” you accused

“What,” he shrugged. “I like to see how often I can make her blush.”

You huffed in disapproval. The poor girl was probably in love with him.

“Can I ask you something?”

You turned to look him in the face at his sudden change of tone.

“Sure,” you replied. “Ask away.”

“Do you respect me?”

You eyed him in shock. That look of vulnerability was back and you loathed it.

“Is this about what I said earlier? About me embarrassing you in front of your team?”

His silence was the only answer you needed.

“Do I seem like the type of woman who would put your cock in my mouth if I didn’t respect you?”

“No, you don’t.”

“Good.”

You gathered your briefcase and strode towards the door. You only stopped at the sound of his voice.

“I respect you, too.”

“I know,” you smiled. “You wouldn’t play so well with me if you didn’t. Get your shit together, Bridgerton. I’ll see you first thing Monday morning with revised contracts. I’m sure Morrison is chomping at the bit to get this settled after your little pissing contest today.”

Your hand was on the doorknob when he spoke again.

“You want to respect each other again next week?”

You shot him a playful wink before sauntering out of the room. You would most definitely be respecting the hell out of him as soon as humanly possible.

If you were lucky, maybe you could get him to respect you a little less.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@eleanor-bradstreet @faye-tale @musicismyoxygen84 @heeyyyou @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @queenofmean14

[doodle-pops]

Dating Glorfindel Would Include...

ʚɞ He’s like a golden retriever, filled with boundless energy and wants to be all over you. He cannot spend five seconds without some form of physical contact, be it holding hands, kissing you, or bumping shoulders.

ʚɞ One of the simplest things he likes to do is to hold your hand during walks, showing everyone that you’re his. He’s absolutely proud to know that you chose him to be your significant other so, he does his best to show you that you chose well.

ʚɞ Your time courting him will never be dull. Every moment spent with him will be full of energy and laughter.

ʚɞ Whenever there’s a party, festival or ball, you are the first couple on the dance floor. The first time you dance at a ball, you are surprised to learn that he is an excellent dancer since you have never seen him dance when asked by others.

ʚɞ He’s an amazing singer but he’ll only sing for you. You are the only person worthy in his eyes to hear his voice.

ʚɞ He enjoys going for rides with you on his horse. Sometimes the both of you will sit together or on separate horses and race each other across the open fields. There are times when he’s in a goofy mood and he’ll sit in front of you on Asfaloth, ignoring the fact that you can’t see.

ʚɞ Wherever you may be working he will always find time during the day to visit you. If it’s to bring you a meal of food or just stop by to say hello, he will always make the time. Even when he’s not on patrol or doing any duties, he’s sparring. He takes this opportunity to spar shirtless in hopes that when you pass by, you’ll ogle at his physique.

ʚɞ Should you do pass by, he shows off a lot more flexing his muscles and fighting with more power and strength to defeat his opponent showing you how strong he is. One time he flexed his muscles too hard, and he caught a cramp. To say the least, it was embarrassing for him.

ʚɞ Know that every day you will be receiving a bouquet of flowers at your doorstep. There are times he’d be able to deliver it and other times when he’ll send a worker.

ʚɞ He knows that he’s not the best cook but he’s willing to try making most of your favourite meals and desserts. Sometimes he’d invite you over into the kitchen so that you could show him how to make your favourite meals. You also do the same by sending meals and desserts for him when he’s working very hard. He always gets over-emotional whenever you do so.

ʚɞ Speaking of him being emotional, Glorfindel is genuinely a compassionate individual and it’s truly an honour to experience firsthand his ability to extend his empathy to others in need of it. Even you are fortunate to be on the receiving end when times are tough on your end.

ʚɞ He’s a cuddle bug so once you’re in his arms there’s no escaping, you’re never leaving you just have to stay there and accept your fate. He has no shame in basking you kisses but he won’t go overboard since he is a Lord and looked upon.

ʚɞ Whenever you’re cuddling you tend to run your hands through his hair which knocks him out. He’s very flamboyant so, expect a lot of grand moments with him but not to worry he does take your reactions seriously; he knows what’s acceptable and what isn’t.

ʚɞ Depending on the age you met, you get the opportunity to hear his tales of the olden days when his fellow Lords and friends were alive. Around these moments are when he relies on a slice of comfort from you to reassure him that there’s still good in his life despite all that he’s lost.

Masterlist

Taglist: @ranhanabi777 @lilmelily @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @mcwentfandomtraveling @involuntaryspasms @stormchaser819 @aconstructofamind @addaigio @lamemaster @hermaeuswhora @zheiya

If you would like to be tagged, click the taglist link to join.

[lament4piligrim]

Frozen heart knows no pain

Arranged marriage AU, pre-MK1

Angst, No Comfort (at the beginning), Hate/Love, Jealousy

Before and after marriage Bi Han is in relationship

Brothers do love his partner (not legitimate wife, but they respect her)

Bi Han ignores (or try) his wife, while his partner tries at least befriend her

Wife is an excellent healer, but she hides her true powers because of an accident

Wife does not interfere in the relationship and avoids any contact with Bi Han, his partner and brothers

Her bestfriend is Sector

Character names are fictional, you can use your own

Prologue

If someone asked Bi-Han what, or rather who, he hated most in the world, he would have answered without a second thought: his own father.

He hid his hatred deep inside him, behind a mask of cool indifference, promising himself and his mother that none of his family would notice it. At least not until the right moment.

The eldest heir sought to become an unique Grandmaster, one that had never before existed in Lin Kuei. He spared neither himself, nor his brothers, nor his loyal warriors - since he was assigned to keep an eye on trainings, he toughened them up to bring out the most resilient and strongest who would become the backbone of his clan in the future.

The first benefits he tasted a few years later, when his mother's death and his father's cold "I'm sorry" didn't haunt him at night.

When the ice in his heart was melted by the warrior in whose eyes he saw stars and whose tinkling laughter captivated his mind.

She had joined Lin Kuei willingly, loving martial arts with all her heart that she had to run away from home because of her parents' prohibitions. She probably wanted to prove to herself and the world that she could protect herself and those she loved, that she was worthy of something more than just a young girl who was stuck in the village for good.

Bi Han thought that such a fragile and insolent girl had no place in Lin Kuei. She dared to contradict the words of the eldest heir and even more so to argue with him, finding it amusing. Not surprisingly, she quickly found favour with Tomas and Kuai Liang. Together, they never missed a moment to mock him. It was annoying as hell.

However, Bi Han couldn't help but notice the wounds and bruises on the girl's arms. The results of hard work and determination. The first thing he realised as he began to look at the girl differently.

He saw the way she agonised her body, balling her fists into bloody knuckles and clenching her teeth tightly as she broke bones. Saw her rise up, unwilling to admit defeat in practice fights. Saw her eyes shine with excitement when she would take down her opponent and then happily help him back to his feet with a satisfied smile. Her smile was like the sun that warmed on spring evenings.

And Bi Han realised that he was deeply in love with her.

He tried to change, to become more open… to let her into his world, to shield her from evil, to protect her at all costs. Only for her to smile at him, not expecting him to blame or criticise her.

He truly felt happy when she kissed him first. Shyly and awkwardly, standing on tiptoe and putting her hands on his broad shoulders. Her face was crimson with embarrassment, and yet she couldn't stop smiling foolishly, as if she had received the most precious gift.

It took a few more years before the whole of Lin Kuei was aware of the relationship between Bi Han and the fox (as they nicknamed the girl for her playful nature). Both weren't shy about showing how much they loved each other, and sometimes fought in public if they saw each other in strangers' company trying to flirt with them. Fox could even throw a tantrum, but Bi Han was skilfully able to suppress it by not letting the girl go all night.

His relationship with his brothers improved, thanks to her. They began to spend more time together, and Kuai Liang thanked fate for giving them Mingzhu.

The Lin Kuei warriors thought that nothing would shake this strong alliance. Even those who disliked Mingzhu didn't doubt it.

Things began to crumble when Grandmaster made the decision to marry Bi Han to the daughter of an important and close ally of the Lin Kuei.

Chapter 1

P.S. Probably I'd publish it in AO3. As I said, you can use your names for characters, or even put yourself in their place

[got-into-worm-by-mistake]

Okay, I've Read Worm: A Retrospective Part 5: What Was I Fucking Surprised By?

So, as you may remember, I got into Worm thoroughly spoiled by the wiki and Wormblr and r/parahumans and r/Wormfanfic and actual Worm fanfic. I knew pretty much all the basic details of all the plot twists. And yet, of course, there are things I didn't expect, things the fandom or the wiki mislead me about, etc. Things I was surprised by.

So let's talk about a few:

Taylor Hebert: As I've said, I kind of worried, before reading Worm, that I'd find Taylor insufferable. The sort of character that tries to be a hero and then convinces themselves to do all sorts of bad stuff while telling themselves they're still a hero/good person/etc is hard to write well without being really unpleasant to read/watc/etc. Self-righteousness in general is hard to enjoy for me. Taylor, honestly, stops thinking of herself as a good person partway through the post-Levi period, in most ways, and she never gets self-righteous about it. So Taylor was much more sufferable than I thought. Which is good, because I would have dropped Worm like a hot potato if she'd been insufferable as the main POV.

Eidolon & The Endbringers: (Sounds like a band name). The whole 'you needed Worthy opponents' thing, and the way people talked about Eidolon (seriously, this fandom as a whole is hugely unfair to the guy, istg) really gave me the impression of like, this vainglorious piece of shit guy who wants adulation and doesn't care how he gets it. And like... I don't get that impression from his Interlude at all? He doesn't seem to give two shits about fame, just about knowing what he did mattered. And he knew that well before the Endbringers. Obviously, he subconsciously created them, and then [High Priest] got all goddamn malicious in his compliance but he's not the vainglorious asshole who charges off to face Scion in single combat or w/e the way the fanfiction gave me that impression. Also, like, maybe it's just me, but I define 'Worthy Opponent' as 'something the person could have a reasonable chance of defeating in a solo fight'. So for me, a worthy opponent would be a rowdy 12 year old with maybe a white belt in karate. the Endbringers are not solo-able opponents for Eidolon. So absolutely not doing what he actually wanted. I really think the fandom is unfairly hard on Eidolon.

Interlude 15.x: Look, at the risk of starting discourse - I'm sorry. I've read 15.x Backwards and forwards and there is just Nothing pointing towards rape in the text, even looking for it as I was. I really expected I'd see some line, some implication, some fucking hint and there's just... absolutely nothing. The text of Worm as written, whatever Wildbow claims he meant and whatever he did mean, does not support a rape interpretation of events. And that sure as fuck surprised me.

Extinction 8.6: The way people - and even some fics - talked about the scene where Amy messes with Taylor post-Leviathan made it sound like Amy straight up ripped off Taylor's mask or something extreme like that, and then Taylor sees unmasked Sophia while trying to run and hide after being unmasked. What we got was Amy being a bit of a bitch, deliberately refusing to answer a question Taylor asked because she knew not answering would upset the girl (not cool), Amy's bedside manner being shit, and Taylor's own paranoia (and the godawful choice of the heroes to handcuff her to the bed) filling in the blanks. And this absolutely tepid-ass shit is pointed to by people as proof that 'Amy was a bitch the whole time'.

The Leviathan Fight: It was a lot shorter than I expected. I enjoyed reading it in ways I was worried I wouldn't.

Cauldron: Now, here's the thing. Characters that do bad things, knowing they're bad, but in pursuit of a greater good? That shit is my goddamn jam. I fucking love characters like that. They're my catnip! And I went into Worm sympathetic as FUCK to Cauldron. and I come out of Worm going 'Jesus Christ what a bunch of fucking idjits!' Their shoestring illuminati was run by a bunch of teenagers who never grew up and a college student who's a worse control freak than Taylor. Their incompetence appears to be the whole point (until Wildbow's WoGs turned everything into Cauldron social engineering and he went out of his way to make a big thing about how Cauldron was totes necessary for making things better. Man just cannot shut up). They try for decades to put some final fight against Scion together, and they fail epicly. No groundwork, no real success, and they turned to ACCORD for their post-apocalyptic plans. And apparently had no plan for a mass Case-53 breakout/attack. Which is... sure a choice. Dumping the Case-53s the way they did. The choice of which Case 53s to dump (Sveta sure was a choice of who to just... let out into the world. Like, not an issue with her personally, but you don't release that kind of uncontrollable murder tentacle out into the world, maybe? Just maybe?). I went into Worm thinking I'd be on Cauldron's side, at least a little, and I came out just... god no, you people are stupid.

Amy's Birdcage Arc: I really thought we'd see more of Amy's time in the birdcage, but 16.z really was all we got.

Alexandria's Death: I don't quite know what I did expect, but I didn't expect Alexandria's death to be so goddamn Darwin-award worthy. The woman died like the biggest of CHUMPs and that was much funnier than I expected.

The Drugs are Fantastic line: I knew it was being taken out of context, but it wasn't quite in the place I expected, I'll be honest. Not sure what I did expect.

Taylor's Weaver Arc/The Timeskip: I expected... I dunno. Less of an abrupt transition, I guess? I thought the timeskip would be like, a series of small scenes skipping ahead over two years between them? Instead, right in the middle of Arc 25, it just jumps ahead two years without ceremony. Did not expect that. At all.

Slaughterhouse Nine: I was not prepared for just how goddamn boring the Nine were. I don't think I read any spoilers about how Jack Slash being boring af was the point until I'd already started the S9 arc, but I especially didn't expect how pathetically bland as characters Manny the Kinless and Burnscar and Crawler and Sibby the Friendly Neighborhood Cannibal would be. Cherish managed to be interesting by being such a failure, and Bonebitch, to my eterntal frustration, managed to be funny, but the rest? Also, I thought Manton would die in the Bay, rather than be killed unceremoniously offscreen while in Boston.

The Butcher: For a character who appears in all of two chapters, the Butcher has a much larger presence in the fandom. But that is Worm for you, because groups like the Elite and the Fallen also show up more in the fics than their presence in the main story merits (Though the Fallen have more of a presence in Ward, even if I gather Ward kinda sorta retcons like half the details or at least presents irreconcilable visions of the organization)

Empire 88: They were way out of focus, compared to how much they appear in fics. But it is fun in fics to see Nazis get beat up all the time, so this is valid. But also, like, even their post-Levi remnants were weaksauce af. Someone in a server the other day said that taking out Marquis took out an entire faction, and that Levi proved that taking out Kaiser (or Allfather before him) doesn't stop the Empire, gesturing to the Aryan's Chosen and the Pure as proof but like... lbr. Both groups were pretty damn pathetic in the post-Leviathan bay. Regardless, I expected to see more of the Nazis getting beat in Worm itself, and we really didn't. But this is one time where I don't care, because as I said, seeing Nazis get beaten up over and over again in the fanfic is fun.

Ward: I was worried reading and finishing Worm might make me want to read Ward. Thankfully, it did not. *whew*

Now, there are probably others, but nothing else as major. But there are also some things I just plain wasn't surprised by.

Amy Dallon: I went into Worm expecting her to be my blorbo, and that didn't change. She's definitely my character type. I feel the same about her storyline in Worm as I did going into it.

Tattlebitch: I expcted to hate her, and I stayed hating her. Lisa sucks. Like, she has her redeeming moments and features, but overall, I still hate Lisa.

Carol Dallon: My Sympathy for Carol remains about as theoretical as it always was.

The PRT/Protectorate: I suspected the PRT/Protectorate was not as useless and incompetent and ACAB as a lot of fics painted it and... I was right.

My Ultimate Opinion: I went into Worm thinking it wasn't really for me, but that I'd probably find it well written and that many characters would be engaging. I figured it would have massive gaping plot holes and that I would never find it to be the 'amazeballs perfect wonderful' that some people seem to find it. And yeah, I was right about that too.

[seldomdrawncherubs]

I LOVE YOU CALIBORN IM YOUR MOST DEVOTED FAN. ANYWAYS, IS LORD OF HOPE BEAUTIFUL AND PERFECT OR WAT? (im a lord of hope obvssiieieieieieeeeee) (also hi calliope)

UU: hello to yoU, too!

UU: my, yoU are powerful!

UU: my brother can explain being a lord qUite a bit better than i can. instead, i will explain the hope aspect!

UU: hope can be explained partly as how we know it. a firm and Unwavering belief that things can improve, no matter the circUmstances, that helps one endUre and maintains the emotional well-being.

UU: hope extends into ensUring a timeline, altering the trajectory of a journey, and into belief!

UU: hope players can lend themselves a boost or lend others strength throUgh the power of their belief! it is an incredible and ephemeral aspect.

UU: this can lead to illUsions, and false beliefs. that is why the best parts of the rage aspect, the path of the painfUl trUth, balance out hope when it corrUpts. the reality-altering power of hope can become dangeroUs...a timeline that killed dirk's bro and jane as well involved the exploitation of jake's powers.

UU: and then there is what happens when hope is Utterly destroyed...that resUlts in the destrUction of lives as well. life and hope are not opposites, bUt the realities and harsh coUrse of life makes it freqUently clash with hope.

UU: if yoU know a life player, this may reflect in their relationship with yoU.

UU: take care as a lord of hope, player. it is a great deal of power; the ability to alter belief and illUsion can extend into reality at that level, perhaps going as far as to create a world...

***

uu: A WORTHY OPPONENT. WHO KNOWS THAT I AM THE SuPERIOR. IT IS GOOD. TO MEET SuCH A DEVOTED FAN. ARE YOu ALSO A RED CHERuB? THAT WOuLD BE INTERESTING. I HAVE NEVER MET OTHERS LIKE ME.

uu: AND YOuR CLASSPECT IS INDEED BEAuTIFUL AND PERFECT. SO MuCH SO THAT I CANNOT PERMIT YOu TO INTEFERE WITH MY GOALS.

uu: THE LORD CONQuERS. TAKES IT ALL. IS ALREADY HERE. IT IS THE PERFECT CLASSPECT. IT ABSORBS SOME OF THE STRONGEST PARTS OF OTHER CLASSPECTS. TO CREATE. TO DESTROY. TO TAKE. TO CONTROL. ALL OF THESE ARE WITHIN THE REACH OF A LORD. THEY ARE WITHIN THE GRASP OF MYSELF IN MANY A TIMELINE.

uu: A MAID CAN HAVE THEIR CAKE. A THIEF CAN TAKE THAT CAKE. A LORD CAN HAVE THAT CAKE AND EAT IT TOO BECAUSE IT WAS ALWAYS HIS CAKE. AND BY CAKE I MEAN YOuR ASPECT. I MEAN TIME. IS MINE. AND I WISH I HAD SOME CAKE RIGHT NOW. WHY IS THERE NO MORE CAKE IN THIS WRETCHED BuNKER.

uu: HOPE REPRESENTS AMBITION. DO YOu THINK. I WOuLD LET A RIVAL FLOuRISH? AND RISK LOSING EVERYTHING. THAT MAKES ME A CANDIDATE TO RuLE ALL OF TIME? WHILE SOMEONE ELSE. RuNS WITH ALL THE AMBITION. AND THE POWER TO WARP REALITY BY BEING AN OPTIMIST?

uu: HOPE IS AN EXCELLENT ASPECT. LIKE JAKE HAS. I WOuLD OFFER TO BE YOuR PATRON MANBRO. BuT THERE CAN ONLY BE ONE LORD.

uu: WE SHALL DuEL AT SuNSET.

uu: ...SHIT.

uu: I AM STuCK HERE. THAT FuCKING SuCKS. HOW AM I SuPPOSED TO DEFEAT ALL THESE ASKERS AND ANONS. WHO THREATEN MY THRONE. WITH THEIR ANNOYINGLY VIABLE CLASSPECTS?

uu: CALLIOPE. FREE ME AT ONCE.

***

UU: not if yoU are going to Use that to attack people! at least free me, if yoU are going to do that!

[gust-jar-simulator]

I think it would be fun to try writing an LU fic more closely based on the canon characterization plus the FSA game canon Shadow, even if half the reason I’m so violently obsessed with Four is him being system coded. It feels like a missed opportunity to not utilize that. BUT.

I am compelled by what the difference in Four and Shadow’s dynamic would be, especially because (as far as I know) we don’t really know who or what the black lizalfos is in canon. I’ve been assuming it’s everyone’s favorite from OoT for fanfic reasons, but there’s no reason it has to be that particular shadow.

Timeline wise, I don’t know how Four works, considering two of his games are set before Time and FSA is set after Twilight Princess. Time Travel? Is Jojo putting FSA before OoT? Hard to say. If she is, though, then that opens up an interesting possibility.

Of the darks I know about in the games, we have:

Hyrule’s final trial of worthiness before obtaining the Triforce

Time’s duel in the Water Temple™️

Four’s major low level opponent Shadow, serving as Vaati’s (actually Ganon’s) second a la Ghirahim in SkSw and implied by Hyrule Historia to be Ganon’s creation, a combination of Link’s shadow and Ganon’s emotions pulled from a mirror that may or may not be a reference to Twilight Princess

Warriors’ three shadows, his animated faults sumoned by Cia

Legend in the Palace of the Four Sword, a gimmick dungeon in LttP in reference to the attached original Four Swords game

And if we really squint, Twilight’s fucked up nightmare where dark versions of himself are used as stand-ins to illustrate the Interlopers, traitors who became the Twili people

The black lizalfos actually being kind of lame in LU and put on the run by Twilight fits very well with the idea that the iconic Dark from OoT is kind of a pushover if you use the Biggoron Sword. But I wanted to point out a pattern in the canon shadows/darks I’ve mentioned.

They’re usually meant as a test, and/or a method for the videogame narrative to have the hero confront his own flaws. With something like the original Zelda game it could be hard to apply much depth, but that shadow is very explicitly a test by the forces of good to see if Hyrule is worthy.

In OoT, we don’t get an explanation for why the shadow is there, and the place you fight him in vanishes like an illusion. It’s not even connected to the main boss room. You get Navi saying “conquer yourself!”, and the only environmental clues are perhaps the temple structures, the lone tree, and the fact that you are fighting while walking on water. I have a lot of theories about that fight, that incorporate everything from the Bodhi Tree to Chinese proverbs, but I think the biggest clue is Nayru’s thematic significance as the goddess of water and wisdom/justice as well as possibly time in that game. Ganondorf has no connection to water and wouldn’t want you to conquer yourself- but Nayru would. Also, the Sacred Realm fight against Demise in SkSw looks like a visual callback to me.

I think the use of Dark Links in the Twilight Princess cutscene is specifically to drive the point home that the Interlopers could be anyone, your neighbor, even people like you, who gave in to the allure of power. This vision was given by a Spirit of Light.

Warriors’ fight might be a reference to the multiple darks in Twilight Princess, but also the thematic significance of the darks in OoT and the original LOZ. He needed to fight the avatars of the faults that prevented him from being a real hero, get an ego check, though for a change of pace they were created by a villain this time.

Legend’s fight against four darks, even if they looked like him, was specifically a reference to the original Four Swords game that was released on the exact same card. Four Swords wasn’t sold separately, it originally came with LttP. Your job in the Palace of the Four Sword is to purify the blade by collecting all four and then defeating the darks, and you can only do this after beating both games. It’s the ultimate challenge as well as ultimately a cool reference, but I think an argument could be made that the darks in the swords aren’t really connected to Legend. They don’t split from him- he has to exorcise them.

Which leads me to Shadow from Four Swords Adventures.

Shadow is quite literally on your ass, laughing at you, killing your teammates, pranking, terrorizing villagers and kidnapping maidens from the second you start the game. He blows up the area to force you to retreat to another screen. He shapeshifts into your teammates, so you all accidentally stab the wrong guy. The person he mimics is the only one who can hurt him. He shifts between the Dark and Light worlds, forcing you to follow him. He clones himself to fight all of you at once. He shows up out of nowhere, laughing the whole time, wrecks shop, and just harries you throughout the course of the whole plot. I haven’t seen what his boss fight is like, but I am EXTREMELY curious to see if he has any dialogue. He steals people’s keys. He fucks up their bushes. He drops a whole village into the Dark World. He sets a whole village on fire. Unlike the others, notably the legendary OoT Dark and the original LOZ one, he’s not waiting for you at all. He’s playing with you.

Considering the connection between Four Swords shadows and LttP, and the fact that Shadow came from a mirror that is likely a Twilight Princess reference, that is very feasibly a lot of connections to make. On top of that, most of the previously listed darks are tests of character. Your test of character in the Four Swords games is very textually whether or not you become like Shadow, considering the voting mechanism where you can elect who was the most annoying during the chapter. Shadow himself, however, is not one of you.

He’s the only dark from a canon game to have been created by Ganon.

So that leaves me with two ideas. Either The Shadow™️ from LU is a test from Hylia/the gods, created by her, or it’s a demon created by Ganon/Demise/whatever is currently the big bad demon king. There is a third option of “it used to be a test but became corrupted somehow”, but we’ll see.

Then, as I said, there’s the timeline question. Either we use the Hyrule Historia timeline and have to explain why Four somehow jumped a few thousand years to post-Twilight, or FSA gets scooted up to exist before OoT. If that’s the case, that would make Shadow the first of the darks, as opposed to Dark Link, which opens up some interesting ideas.

Who is The Shadow™️? We honestly have no idea yet. I do think the black lizalfos could possibly be OoT Dark, considering it mostly functions as an observer, but the infectious miasma-like quality of the black blood (which might’ve been the venom that nearly took down Twilight) seems like a callout to BOTW malice and its ability to corrupt Guardians. It does textually empower monsters, so it might be some sort of Ganon juice.

But the only shadow entities that have anything to do with Ganon are Zant, the Twili usurper skilled in shadow magic who worshipped Ganon as a god, or Shadow, a literal actual shadow who may or may not be connected to the Mirror of Twilight but who was definitely a major villain and a major pain in the ass.

I just think it would be funny if OoT Dark is working for the smallest and most chaotic dark of them all. Shadow doesn’t have to be the ultimate villain, because as we all know it’s barely a Zelda game if the final boss isn’t a warmup for fighting the Demon King (plot relevant or not), but I do think there’s a chance that if we see Shadow in LU he might be very different from what manga fans are expecting.

[wakaposting]

WHY DID I START ANOTHER WIP help me. finish your food before you have dessert smh. i think they should chase each other around in the forest and then waka gets so excited he kisses shige out of the blue and then erm. well

“Ah, Yorishige-dono - really? Are you sure?”

Tokiyuki’s voice betrays his excitement. He tries to resist the urge to bounce in place on his feet, already feeling adrenaline begin to course through his body. The urge defeats him, however, and soon he is up on his tiptoes, unable to help himself. “Y-You don’t have to, you know. I realize that it’s unfair…”

“What’s unfair about it?” Yorishige asks him with a toothy grin. His eyes have crinkled up into excited half-moons, his expression wild in a way that usually spells irritation or outright exasperation on Tokiyuki’s part. But right now, he is too excited to find the look off-putting.

“Well - usually, when I ask Ayako or Kojiro, they say no,” Tokiyuki answers quickly, and he begins to babble half to himself and half to Yorishige as he continues to get more worked up. “Because I’m so fast that it isn’t fair for them to chase me. Or because I’m too good at hiding and they can never find me. Or that I keep asking to play when they already want to be done - so - for lots of reasons. And then Genba always ignores me when I ask him, and Fubuki says he really doesn’t like to run around like that--” 

He suddenly cuts himself off and stares up with focused eyes at Yorishige, still bouncing in place as if stopping now would shock his system. His long ponytail and oversized sleeves flounce along with his movements as he redirects his statement. “So do you really want to?”

“Of course I do!” Yorishige declares, throwing his arms out wide as a luminescent halo springs forth behind his head. “Why wouldn’t I want to play with you, Tokiyuki-sama? Really, I should have done this before!”

“And you won’t get upset with me?” Tokiyuki asks with slight wariness. “If you can’t catch me?”

Yorishige raises his hand to his mouth, daintily covering the bottom half of his face with his large sleeve, though the broad, raised corners of his grin are still visible. “My lord may be underestimating me,” he says mischievously. “I would not offer if I did not think I would be a worthy opponent. After all, I am a god - I have divine power on my side. Are you so confident in yourself that you think that you can outrun the patron god of Suwa Taisha?”

Tokiyuki feels a surge of excitement course through his body, prickling through to his extremities like a bolt of lightning. Instead of scoffing at Yorishige’s claim of divinity, he surprises himself by simply blurting out, “Yes! I believe that I can!”

[mvshortcut]

Ranking every time the Ten Men get taken down by how cringe fail they are (Part 2)

Warning: this post contains major spoilers for Riddle of Ages!

We're back again already, folks. Part 1 is here; now it's time for round 2 of some good old pointing and laughing.

Book 4: The Riddle of Ages

first appearance of my problematic faves the Katz brothers! There's always gotta be one cowardly goon in the lot, and the Scaredy Katz fulfill their role admirably. This knockout isn't too cringe-worthy, although the dramatic "Now!" [immediately gets knocked out] is quite comical, as well as the image of him trying to run on his knees. 3/10

And here we have Garrotte being painfully average once again. Although this one is made more interesting by the fact that he and Sharpe apparently jumped some random businessmen on the street and stole their completely normal briefcases, then had the audacity to be surprised when said completely normal briefcases didn’t hold up well in a combat scenario. It’s almost as if they’re designed to hold paperwork, not fend off a flurry of tranquilizer darts. Who would’ve thunk. Also. You could literally walk into any Home Depot and find dozens of items more suited for this purpose, which the Ten Men easily could’ve done if they weren’t so darn committed to the stonks bit. 

Also, “Most unfair! Such shoddy materials!” is the funniest possible thing you could say upon getting knocked out. It’s giving “trust fund kindergartener encounters Crayola crayons during art class for the first time ever.” Please just say “god damn it” like a normal person. 4/10

See this one is so funny to me. You're telling me that the infamous shock watches, which have terrorized several of our beloved characters over the course of the series, can be defeated simply by doing simple gymnastics? it's giving "show Sticky doing long division in his head to defeat Curtain's infamous Happiness brainwashing." Also, you're telling me you can knock out people simply by throwing darts at them? wild. anyways. I love Katz getting knocked out mid-threatening leap. 5/10

diversity win! Milligan won't kill you but he isn't above shooting you in the ass! 7/10

sorry this is so long but we need the full context to appreciate how cringe this is. imagine you brought five (5) of your best men to locate SQ Pedalian, a young adult not particularly skilled in combat, and also to fight a teenage girl. And now it's gone so sideways that you're literally the last one left standing. Standing, on top of an ice cream truck that you pushed on top of your opponent, who is now trapped beneath and yet has his hands casually laced behind his head as if he's tanning on the beach. And you got tricked into standing there, pinned by an empty gun, and simply watching while he loads darts into the (previously empty) gun. And now he's just shooting a bunch of empty darts at you, one after another, while you have to stand there and wait for him to finally knock you out. I think I would disintegrate on the spot. Also "You wouldn't shoot me in the face. That's not your style" bestie you just watched him shoot Sharpe in the ass. Would you prefer that instead? 9/10

This one might take the cake. First of all, they all fell for the trap, so now they're stuck in jail again like 3 days after escaping. And then, the teenage girl you've been terrorizing for years finally turns your stupid condescending pet names right back on you before a nine year old uses her mind powers to make you knock yourself out with your own weapon. 🫵 CRINGE. 10/10

Still very cringe, though less so than McCracken. It's kinda funny that Constance made them use their shockwatches instead of the (less painful) handkerchiefs. 6/10

Y'know, given the Katz brother's astounding loser energy, I'm amazed that they might actually have the least cringe take down. Taking the coward's way out. I respect it. Love them staring out the window. sad tigger gif here. Bonus points for ratting out Crawlings for being awful. 1/10 and two gold star stickers for them both

And, finally, for the grand finale, our favorite cringe boy is back:

Crawlings is making up for having fewer appearances in this book by making his COUNT. and YIKES. I literally have to step away every time I read this. From the supervillain monologue, to everyone groaning at him and then simply ignoring him (knowing what's about to happen), to Crawlings immediately poisoning and temporarily paralyzing himself the SECOND he gets a chance to be the Final Girl. And then he gets thrown back into jail. Plus the fact that he's on the floor about to pass out still wondering when the "Genius Serum" will kick in. uhhh. y'know, Crawlings, I might not be a genius either, but I have the slightest inkling that all may not be going according to plan. 11/10

And there we have it folks! The final rankings are:

Hertz: 6

The Katz Brothers: 9

Garrotte: 14

Sharpe: 22

McCracken: 35

And, in first place, with 36 points, our beloved Crawlings.

In conclusion,

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Christoper Weyant :: @ChristophWeyant

* * * *

The weekend news cycle

Democrats are on tenterhooks waiting for Kamala Harris’s vice presidential running mate selection. She spent much of the weekend meeting with three (?) final candidates. In the meantime, her campaign is advertising heavily on NBC’s Olympics broadcast. For the first time, I received an unsolicited call from a legitimate Democratic organization inviting me to engage in GOTV efforts. I engaged the volunteer in conversation and was pleased to hear that he received positive feedback from call recipients nationwide.

Sadly, a leading development is the continuing moral collapse of the New York Times, which seems incapable of breaking itself of the habit of slanting its coverage in favor of Trump. When the obituary of the Times is written, its utter failure to rise to this moment will be cited as a proximate cause.

On Friday, Trump posted on his social media that he would debate Kamala Harris on September 4, televised by Fox, with Fox anchors, to be held in an arena. (Fox was surprised to learn it would host the alleged debate.)

In other words, Trump offered to debate Kamala Harris at a Trump campaign rally. That would not be a debate; it would be a spectacle worthy of the Coliseum under Emperor Nero, complete with lions and gladiators. It was not a serious offer; it was a sham and a joke. It was clickbait for unserious journalists.

The Times took the bait. It ignored the fact that Trump had withdrawn from the previously agreed upon debate and blared that “Trump Agrees to Fox News Debate on September 4.”

After reputable journalists pilloried the Times’ for its misleading headline, the Times was shamed into correcting the headline to read, Trump Cancels a Debate With Harris on ABC News and Pitches One With Fox News Instead.

But even after correcting its headline, the Times couldn’t get the details right. The Times wrote that Trump proposed the debate be held before “a live audience.” Wrong! Trump demanded that the debate be a “full arena audience.” The difference is material and the Times’ reporters failed to report a material term of Trump’s sham offer.

Here's the point. The Times’ biased reporting in favor of Trump is the steady state. That means that we must not only defeat Trump but defeat him decisively at every turn. No half measures, no narrow margins, no letting up—on Trump or on the media. The Times responded when its readers revolted—in comments to the article and on social media. We need to keep it up.

Over the weekend, Trump's surrogates defended his racist statements questioning the racial identity of Kamala Harris. See ABC News, Byron Donalds: Trump's comments on Harris' race 'a side issue'. Trump's surrogates will continue to push his racist agenda until the voters punish those surrogates.

For example, Dennis Aftergut notes that GOP Rep. Mike Garcia (CA-27) has recently used racist tropes to attack Kamala Harris, saying, “She’s not very intelligent, she’s not very well-spoken.” See Dennis Aftergut, Salon, Dog whistling past Dixie: Republicans are in over their heads playing the Kamala Harris race card.

Aftergut writes,

Whether Garcia’s trolling results from implicit or explicit bias or racialized cognitive dissonance, the net effect is that he’s gone full MAGA. He accused her, in effect, of what’s known in other circles as being “inarticulate while Black.” Garcia resides in Southern California, representing a “Biden district” – one that the president carried while Garcia beat his Democratic opponent.  Unlike those actors, however, Garcia is living in the past. This November, his district’s voters can send his House membership right back there with him.

Good point, Mr. Aftergut! George Whitesides is challenging Mike Garcia for the honor of representing CA 27. Show George Whitesides some support and teach Mike Garcia that racism has no place in politics—particularly in CA-27. See George Whitesides for Congress.

Finally, Trump held a rally in Georgia over the weekend that was his usual toxic mix of lies, hate, and incomprehensible gibberish. During the rally,

Trump congratulated Vladimir Putin on the prisoner exchange;

Attacked Georgia’s Republican Governor (Brian Kemp) for not helping win (read: cheat) in 2020;

Attacked Brian Kemp’s wife;

Said Atlanta was a crime-ravaged city “like a killing field”;

Called Kamala Harris “a low IQ individual”;

Said Kamala Harris wants to get rid of cows;

Said that an electric vehicle charger is a “gas pump that has electricity come through it”;

Claimed that he won Georgia in 2020 (he lost);

Dissed Bruce Springsteen (“I only like people who like me”);

Had numerous glitches where he couldn’t read the teleprompter and simply gave up.

So, whatever Trump is doing, he is not appealing to swing voters in Georgia. He is constitutionally incapable of doing so. Which is why Kamala Harris’s campaign should give all of us hope and confidence for the next 90 days.

[Robert B. Hubbell Newsletter]

[sharpen-your-hatchet]

Old Wounds - Wenclair fanfic, Chapter 17

Description: Now aged 22, Wednesday Addams is an up-and-coming author. Her time at Nevermore is well behind her, and she is alone, and that suits her just fine...But when a 'new' neighbour shows up in her apartment building, she'll truly be tested on whether her "bad habit" of caring truly has been broken. (Hint: It hasn't.)  

Pairing: Wednesday Addams / Enid Sinclair

Rating: Teens & Up (subject to change in future)

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Click Here To Read This Chapter On AO3 or keep reading below!

x-x-x-x-x-x

As expected, Wednesday and Enid’s lazy late-morning leads into a similarly laid back afternoon. 

Being that it is a Saturday, there’s no expectations on them. No plans, no work (aside from some emails that Enid insists she will get to later), and certainly no commitments to anything aside from simply existing. It is perhaps for the best. Though Wednesday feels rested, her brain and body still carry the leaden exhaustion of the previous night and as such she reluctantly agrees their time is best spent doing nothing. Frankly, she despises such frivolous inaction, but much to her chagrin she is only human. 

However, this does welcome more time to spend together; more time with Enid on the couch, ever so gently brushing shoulders. Wednesday is unsure what this new closeness means - the bigger question being if she wants to take it further; if she feels like she could, or should do such a thing…  She thinks occasionally about the hand touch from breakfast. Her chest tightens when she does; it still puzzles her. 

God, she wishes it made sense. Is physical touch really something her mind and body sees as panic worthy? These last 24 hours truly have thrown a lot into chaos, and not in a way she can revel in. Not yet, anyway. 

As for Enid… well, she has not moved in the last two hours following breakfast. Her Nintendo Switch is glued to her face as she runs around some silly fantasy game featuring a skinny elven man who communicates in ludicrous exaggerated yells. Though tired and yawning constantly, Enid is laser focused. 

Wednesday sits besides her reading, albeit distractedly - Between her thoughts, the noise emanating from Enid’s game device, and Enid attempting to explain the narrative to her, Wednesday realises she has little chance of gaining any progress on this particular novel. Normally this would be an annoyance, but Wednesday does not mind in this case. Particularly as Enid’s voice does good in quieting the one inside her own head.  

Besides - with monsters, a dark power corrupting the world, and plenty of weapons, Wednesday admits, this ridiculous little game doesn’t sound all too bad. If only it were a book. Mind you, the heroic elf man would likely be the protagonist, and Wednesday would much rather subscribe to the notion of festering darkness fully overpowering the world… She explains as much to Enid, who simply rolls her eyes with a smile.  

“But Link has to win. That’s just how the story goes,” Enid reasons, lowering her switch to look Wednesday in the eyes. “Link is like…yknow. The link between all the heroes that come before and after him.”  

Wednesday lowers her book, mirroring Enid. “Enid, aside from the ridiculous name that the protagonist holds, there are many things wrong with that logic. Namely that the annoying little elf man could defeat the otherworldly might all by himself. It is nonsensical. His blood would be splattered across the castle in seconds.”

“...There isn’t any blood in this game, Wends.” 

Wednesday frowns. “Then what is there to enjoy about it?” 

A solid ten minute ‘argument’ ensues, though Wednesday finds herself conceding much sooner than she ever usually would. If this were any other debate, she would love to chase her opponents’ opinions, break them down until she wins…but this is Enid. Enid is different. Wednesday knows she cannot let herself slip into bad argumentative habits. She refuses to, in fact. 

And so their lazy afternoon drones on - Wednesday reading; Enid playing, with a quiet buzz of conversation between them. Wednesday takes an intentional and decided interest through-out, and at this, Enid seems much happier. Though it doesn’t last long, as Enid slowly begins drifting back to sleep and at some point abandons her game console all together. Wednesday wisely grabs it before it slides off the couch and places it on the coffee table. 

“I’m still playing,” Enid whines tiredly. She makes a grabby hands gesture towards the device, but stops when Wednesday lightly bats her hands away. 

“You are falling asleep,” Wednesday corrects, watching as Enid struggles to stay awake. “I will not be subject to your tears because you dropped your gaming device…”

Enid pouts, but does not argue back. 

“Okay maybe I am falling asleep,” She admits after a few seconds. She yawns again.

Wednesday looks at her pitifully. It is a shame, but it is clear that Enid needs more rest. 

Although, Wednesday is also somewhat relieved. There’s been a few big developments in the last few hours and perhaps having some time to process it all would be of benefit. Besides, it’s been a decent amount since she’s let herself mentally spiral - She’s due some time staring into nothingness. 

Wednesday stands up, grabbing the blanket that is slung over the back of the couch. She holds it out to Enid, staring at her intently. 

“Bed. Now.” Wednesday states. 

Enid takes the blanket wordlessly and wraps it around her shoulders. Briefly reminded of the night before, Wednesday averts her gaze for a moment, scowling at the strange tightness in her stomach…

Suddenly that time to process her thoughts is looking doubly alluring. 

 Enid catches the glare on Wednesday’s face, and her expression turns apologetic. 

“Are you annoyed with me, Wends?” She asks quietly, “I know you don’t like lazy days, and now I’m just disappearing to bed instead of spending time with you...” 

Wednesday looks back to Enid, wide eyed. Her expression softens. 

“…No.” She replies in a stilted tone, “I guarantee that my ego is not so easily bruised. I was simply thinking about my mother’s intolerable concern as I didn’t call her yesterday.” 

It is a technical truth. Her mother did not receive any reason for their lack of phone call and as a consequence, Wednesday now sits with 4 unread texts requesting her attention. It is therefore a wise decision for Wednesday to make haste and call ASAP… regardless of this, Wednesday is certainly not going to tell Enid about how she now lives with the image of Enid’s naked back imprinted in her brain,  and how it flashed before her eyes once more, and whatever else accompanied it. There is enough going on as it is. 

It is no matter anyway, as Enid replies with a soft smile, accepting Wednesday’s answer. 

“I guess I’ll see you later then?” 

Wednesday nods at her. She collects her belongings from where Enid packed them away and makes her way to the apartment door. She pulls it open and steps out into the hallway. 

“Hey Wends?” Enid calls out. 

Wednesday turns back around to see Enid stood in the doorway. She reaches out and grabs one of Wednesday’s hands, giving it an affectionate squeeze. 

“Thanks again, for everything.” 

Wednesday blinks in surprise, feeling the electricity from Enid’s touch bite at her nerves once more. It is like last time - A mix of conflicting emotions, overpowered by the way Enid’s warmth and tenderness overwhelms Wednesday’s senses… and though it still evokes the same flutter in Wednesday’s chest, it feels less deadly now. In fact, it feels like potential; as though there is space for familiarity in this gesture. Perhaps more than that. 

It is fascinating beyond all measure. 

Wednesday feels the corner of her mouth twitch, her expression unsure of itself. She looks at Enid. 

“Of course.” She says quietly, “Now go rest.” 

Enid smiles and nods. She gives a small wave as she closes the door. 

Wednesday makes the short trip back to her apartment and though this is not where she planned to be, she will admit that being back around her dark decor is soothing. Without the constant colour bleeding into her eyeballs, everything coursing through her brain seems less sharp; more manageable. It is a welcome feeling after everything that has unfolded. 

Wednesday makes quick work for putting away her things, and then follows up with a quick cold shower. Though she intends to then sit at her desk and continue reading, she allows herself the displeasure of laying in the dark on her uncomfortable bedroom floor. It is a useful tool when either her spine needs realigning or she simply needs to think - in this case, it’s both. Especially after all that time she’s spent on Enid’s ridiculously plush couch. 

And so, Wednesday stares up to the ceiling, thinking. 

She checks the time - 3:30pm. There is plenty of time to explore her brain before contacting her mother. Perfect. 

Now it should be said, Wednesday does not find herself particularly miserable at being presented with her now-unfiltered flow of thoughts. Anguish and resentment are better left reserved for those who deserve it - Like whats-his-name from the coffee shop, who insists on Wednesday’s attention like an unloved child. Ugh, it is pathetic. 

What truly lurks in her brain and body currently is confusion; questions seeking answers she cannot reach… and okay, perhaps this confusion does bring about a slight frustration. Wednesday does not enjoy the idea of not understanding her own thoughts. However, she does indulge in the mystery; the chase for answers; the experimentation it brings about… It is this curiosity, this magnetism that keeps her so focused on Enid, and the way she feels when they’re together. 

She and Enid are friends…but are they? Are these electrifying touches, and soft eyed glances beyond the realm of normalcy?  Is it ridiculous to guess as such? These are all things that Wednesday ponders. Enid is… well. She is sunshine made human, painting Wednesday’s grey clouds with silver linings - uniquely immune to the storm, and commanding lightning in her touch. 

Wednesday scowls. She stares daggers into her ceiling. 

What she seeks seems just so cruelly out of reach. 

The human condition is truly a fucked up conundrum. 

She sits up then, a sudden realisation striking her. It is like a sixth sense. She must speak to her mother immediately. 

Wednesday stands and quickly shuffles out of her dark room, to fetch her phone. Though she initially had planned to wait, Wednesday pulls up her Mother’s number and calls it, standing stiffly in anticipation. 

The call is answered moments later. Morticia begins with a slow, questioning greeting but Wednesday has no patience for it. 

“-Mother,” Wednesday interrupts, her voice stern. “I need you to answer a question.” 

There is a slight pause from Morticia, as she resonates on Wednesday’s tone. “Of course, my little raven. What can I help you with?” 

“You requested my attention numerous times over the last 18 hours. What did you see?” 

Morticia hums in question. 

Wednesday huffs. 

“Do not play games. You had a vision. What. Did. You. See?” 

There is a shuffling sound from the other end of the phone, presumably Morticia seating herself after receiving this unexpected call. Wednesday too, takes a seat. There’s a palpable tension that holds itself heavy in her chest. 

Morticia lets out a gentle sigh.

“I saw you… and Enid, and then you again, seeking answers as you are now.” 

Wednesday clenches her jaw. The questions she humoured mere moments ago trickle through her head once more.

“Do you know the mystery that plagues me?” She asks. 

Wednesday already knows the answer. She is a fool for not heeding her mother’s call to attention sooner. 

“Why of course I do,” Comes Morticia’s answer, breathed out in a voice that carries another knowing smile. “My darling, you run yourself in too many circles.” 

Wednesday says nothing. It is a truth that is distasteful to hear. 

Morticia continues. 

“Seeing you and Enid in my vision, there is much that becomes apparent. Are you sure you wish to know?” 

Silence from Wednesday again, but only for a moment. It is a brief hesitation; a question of if these answers are truly what she wants… But she trusts her mother and trusts the truths her positive prophecies foretell. In any case, she is Wednesday Addams and she does not fear the unknown - The unknown should fear her. 

“Tell me.” Wednesday requests plainly.

“You and Enid,” Her mother begins, her voice soft; warm. “You two share an unbreakable bond.”

Wednesday’s eyes grow wide.  

“You will be, or perhaps already are… in love.” 

Wednesday mouth falls agape; words fail to find her. She scowls intensely at the floor, blinking back the wealth of feelings that follow. For the sake of a few sentences, her world is shattered; redefined. The unknown that she so conceitedly glared down has grabbed her by the throat and demanded fealty. 

She and Enid…

Could it really be true? 

Wednesday glances to the hand Enid held. She thinks of the warmth of Enid’s touch; the spark it caused; how intense it seemed for something so small. Wednesday sees it now for what it is - what she failed to recognise. 

She doesn’t want to believe it, but she has no choice. 

After all: 

Visions don’t lie.

[azikarue]

MayBlade 2023 : Day 7 : Duty

Hiro | FFN Rating: K | FFN Link ❖ Regardless of what people might think, Hiro didn’t make the decision to join BEGA lightly.

From the outside, it looked like BEGA rose up to usurp the BBA overnight. In reality, it had been a long time coming.

The fumbling of the partner format in the previous World Championships had dissuaded several popular teams from competing and, though the stadium sold out, there was a drastic drop in coverage on international networks that hurt the bottom line. For a split second, it looked like it could be the start of a dangerous trend, and the BBA went bigger for the next tournament.

And it paid off. But it also took Mr. Dickenson out of the office and out of the country for a handful of important board meetings. It was ironic that his love for his bladers and dedication to making this the most successful World Championship tournament yet, had ultimately left an opening for Boris to weasel into.

Boris, who orchestrated the whole Barthez Battalion stunt, used it as further proof that the BBA was due for a change in leadership. With enough money waved around, it turned into a complete rebrand. Or sellout. You heard both, depending on who you talked to.

Whatever you called it, Hiro knew it would crush Tyson.

His brother was sentimental and loyal to a fault. Hiro had seen those qualities nearly put an end to his World Championship run before Tyson learned to manage them. And, with zero chance of Tyson joining BEGA with Boris at the helm, those qualities could bring his entire career to a screeching halt.

It was with that knowledge that Hiro signed a contract with BEGA, mere days after their Championship victory.

Tyson reacted how he predicted and, as the days unfolded, all his friends did, too.

Ray, Max, Daichi, Kenny, and Hilary – he knew they’d ultimately stand by Tyson’s side. That was good. He’d need them. Not as rivals – Hiro knew they weren’t on that level – but as a support system to keep him focused.

But just like he needed them, he needed Hiro to side with his enemy. He needed somebody to look at the bigger picture and train up an opponent that would ensure that Tyson could rise to the next level as a beyblader. He needed to be strong enough to outlast the BBA, BEGA, and whatever might come after.

It wouldn’t be Kai. He was too concerned with finding his own means to the same old end. Always so eager to battle Tyson and prove he was a worthy rival, that he completely missed the part where Tyson had left him in the dust ages ago.

Luckily, as much as Kai tried to be a thorn in Hiro’s side and sling empty threats, he was too nearsighted to derail his plans. Especially once Brooklyn came along.

Brooklyn, with his heaps of natural talent and lack of discipline, reminded Hiro of Tyson in some ways. But Hiro knew the first time he saw Brooklyn launch a beyblade, that he’d finally found a blader capable of outpacing Tyson on his best days. Brooklyn was just what his plan needed; just what Tyson needed.

Hiro could see Kai’s wheels turning the second he laid eyes on Brooklyn. He predicted, then and there, that Kai would suffer a crushing defeat at the hands of Brooklyn, and he was right.

It made him happier than he realized it would, to see Kai defeated. Maybe because, with Kai out of the way, Tyson would have one less distraction. Or maybe it was because Kai’s loss was all the confirmation Hiro needed that he was doing the right thing.

Tyson’s old teammates couldn’t push him to his limits any longer. He needed Brooklyn. More importantly, he needed Hiro, someone to look at the bigger picture.

Part of Hiro guessed that Kai would end up crawling back to Tyson. When he stepped up for the fourth round of the Justice Five Tournament and challenged Brooklyn, Hiro ordered Brooklyn to compete. From where he was standing, it was a win-win situation.

Either Brooklyn won and took Kai down a peg or, ever more likely as Kai pulled himself to his feet over and over again, Brooklyn would lose and have a reason to come back stronger for the inevitable tie-breaking Final. Because Garland wasn’t a match for Tyson; it would come to a tie-breaker.

It all played out better than he could have ever imagined. Brooklyn losing, Garland losing. Boris was angry, but Hiro hadn’t ever been working towards his goal of complete and total control over the sport of beyblading. He thought Boris might even be beginning to realize that, but it was too late, at this stage in the game, to find somebody else who could help Brooklyn realize his full potential.

And boy, did Brooklyn have potential.

With some guidance from Hiro, he woke from his slump and learned how to harness his emotions, that desire for revenge, to become the most destructive beyblader Hiro had ever seen. The manic look in his eyes promised BEGA a sure and swift victory. For the first time, Hiro doubted Tyson’s ability to combat him.

A strange sense of excitement twisted in his gut, as he and Brooklyn trained into the night on the eve of the final battle.

If Brooklyn won, Hiro was training the next World Champion.

But, if Tyson could rise to the challenge, he would grow to become ten times the blader he was at the start of the tournament. Not because he had friends by his side or the BBA to fight for, but because he had Hiro. And Hiro’s duty, as his older brother, was to make sure Tyson was the best he could be, no matter what.

[7grandmel]

Todays rip: 02/07/2023

Angry Joe's Theme

Season 2 No Album Release (Read more) Angry Joe's Theme - Angry Video Game Nerd Adventures

Ripped by Sonicheroesfan1

Part of Voiceless Week!

Throughout this week, I've covered voiceless' legacy on the channel across six different rips featuring it in some capacity. That's all well and good - but there's always been another side to the battle that I've ignored until now. Voiceless as a theme underscored a duel wherin Smol Nozomi reigned victorious, yet...is her opponent not equally as important?

That's right - to close off the week, I'm going to be talking about Angry Joe.

To most, he's a YouTuber of the old Nostalgia Critic-era YouTube, a guy who yells and screams about video games. But in his reinterpretation in the SiIvaGunner lore? He's simultaneously one of the funniest and most fascinating characters in the lore, being the channel's first official villain and at some point its main antagonist. During Season 1, in the midst of the channel's normal activity, he was sort of played up as a parasite on the channel, a constant thorn in SiIva's side. For instance, on April 1st the album GiIvaSunner's Highest Quality Video Game Rips Volume 2 was released on April 1st, only it contained no actual rips and was instead exclusively filled with various Angry Joe shitposts (Okay, it contained ONE rip, Grand Dad Metropolis, 244 times over). Then six days later, when the original channel was terminated three months into 2016 (this is when it changed from GiivaSunner to SiivaGunner), the in-universe explanation became that Angry Joe terminated it out of jealousy, perhaps due to the negative reception to Volume 2.

Thing is, the video uploaded to showcase this event supposedly showed Angry Joe dying alongside SiIva. And so he disappeared from the channel, yet...he kept popping up in secret, as bonus images in albums, in an imgur link hidden in a rip's description, during the Reboot ARG, or suddenly on the cover of GilvaSunner's Highest Quality Video Game Rips: Volume FOUR HOURS!. He simply wouldn't go away, yet made his presence relatively unknown to those not digging deep into the lore.

All of this to say, when his duel with Nozomi finally commenced in Episode 8 of the Christmas Comeback Crisis, with over a year's worth of buildup - that shit felt GOOD. His intentions were laid bare in the more dialogue-heavy format of the CCC, and we finally got to see this pest taken care of by our new band of protagonists in the story, underscored with a beautiful theme that I've now spent a week celebrating.

Then, three hours after his defeat, this rip was uploaded. A medley of various themes built on the 8-bit theme Joe himself used as his YouTube intro theme, it really felt to me like a sort of sendoff to the character. The entire song is set into high gear right from the start, by carrying the theme of You Say Run from My Hero Academia throughout it. With the addition of themes such as GO MY WAY, Snow Halation, P-R-O-G-R-A-M, and various Hiroyuki Sawano songs, the song ebbs in and out of a sort of emotional underscore, as if his original theme is being overridden by the musical direction of the CCC - signifying his defeat. Capping the entire song off with ten seconds of Voiceless just seals the deal entirely - this is absolutely worthy of being the theme of Angry Joe's defeat, despite not being heard in the actual episode itself.

Unlike the last time I featured a song without an album release, I decided to give this track its rip name in the title. Because truly - what better description could you get than something so simple: This is Angry Joe's Theme. Stellar work, SHF1. (Now put it in an album!!)

[jimintomystery]

Tears of the Kingdom ending stuff

What happened with me is, I did the Dragon's Tears quest right away, so then I was extremely motivated to hurry up and get the Master Sword and finish the game. I think that kind of disrupted the "intended" order of what I was "supposed" to do. I ended up going after Ganondorf with all the sages but just 20 hearts (of a possible 40). I can't believe that worked.

Spoilers below.

After I got the cutscenes about Zelda turning into a dragon I was remarkably disheartened, and I found it difficult to keep playing. What kept me going was the idea that the Master Sword quest would have to mean locating the dragon, which gave me a slim chance of finding a way to restore Zelda. But there was nothing I could do about the dragon, so I realized that I just had to defeat Ganondorf and see if that made any difference.

The whole quest in Hyrule Castle with the fake Zelda was a long slog, and I had a good idea that wouldn't be the ending. Then the Fifth Sage quest was another long slog, so I figured the real final battle would be a nightmare. I wanted to grind in the shrines and git gud but in the end I was too impatient to beat Ganon's ass and find out what happens to Zelda. I got my 20th heart and was like "fuck it, let's see what happens."

I went down into Gloom's Approach just to see how far I could get. I should have figured there'd be entirely too much gloom, and enemies covered in gloom hitting me with gloom. I didn't bring nearly enough sundelion meals and my anti-gloom clothes weren't enough. The main problem was trying to engage every monster I encountered. That worked when I was chasing down fake Zelda but this time I was running myself ragged. By the time I got where the sages disappeared, and a Gloom Hands grabbed me, I had two hearts left and I was like "just teleport out of here, we're not anywhere close to the end."

I stocked up on sundelions and made a bunch of gloom recovery meals. What worked for me was like two sundelions and two fish or meat so you recover 6 gloomed hearts and also fill 4-6 hearts. I think I made about eight meals, but I had way more sundelions and I was planning to hit the shrines for more hearts. But then I got impatient again and wanted to do a recon mission.

On my second attempt I avoided every monster and did a fair job not getting hit. That worked a lot better than I expected--very few monsters chased after me and forced me to take 'em out. When I reached the Demon King's Army, I wasn't as depleted as I planned to be, so I started seriously thinking I could go all the way. The army isn't too bad, really, if you run around to the edges of the fighting and let the sages do most of the work.

I like how the fight with Ganondorf is presented. With the power of the secret stone he's practically a god, but he's very much a man-god who relishes the chance to swordfight with a worthy opponent. Ganondorf wants to stand there and slug it out with me, and that's exactly how I like to fight. We didn't do any fancy dodging or parrying or flurries, really. We just stood there trading shots, but i had the Master Sword and I packed a (lot of) lunch. The first stage was easy.

After that, Ganondorf turns all Super Saiyan Elevnteen or whatever and his health meter grows all the way to the right edge of the screen, to really drive the point home. Now I'm just sick of this dude. He's like "this time I'll take more than your arm" and I'm like "don't forget to catch these hands while you're at it." He's bound to kill me but I went in expecting to lose, so I'm just gonna hit him as much as I can.

I wasn't expecting the second stage to be so...reasonable. Ganon's got duplicates running around but the sages are back to cover that. I don't think he did any special moves until I got him down to half his health. Then he started doing his little dodge thing, but I figured out how to counter it surprisingly easily. I almost wonder if the game could detect my basic ass fighting throughout the game and calibrated Ganon for my skill level. Or maybe I'm way better at this than I think I am. Regardless, I liked that I could just keep fighting the final boss the same way I fought everything else in the game--straight-ahead, walk through two hits to give one, I'm a mess but you shoulda seen the other guy. Gimme that Captain America versus Thanos vibe.

That made it extra satisfying when Ganondorf is so mad I beat him that he eats his secret stone to turn into a dragon. He's not just mad that he's losing, he's mad because some punk kid with a sword is choppin' him down to size. Of course, if he turns into a dragon I know I can't stop him, but I know I won't have to do it myself. Sure enough, here comes Dragon Zelda to help me out. Took me a while to find the Demon Dragon's weak points, but at this point it's pretty much a victory lap and you can take your time killing him. I thought that was a nice touch.

After Ganon is destroyed, Link's recall power randomly activates to de-dragon-ize Zelda. Which, great, you love to see it, but I'm not exactly sure how or why that happens. I wish that bit was more plot-heavy. The game makes you search for the revelation that Zelda turned herself into a dragon, and the reason why. I was hoping a similar experience would be necessary to turn her back. Instead it just happens out of nowhere, for no apparent reason except that her dragon form is no longer needed to help fight Ganon. Oh well, the important thing is that I get to see Zelda wake up and realize everything went better than expected. And of course she and Link don't kiss or anything. I have to do everything around here...

[andiessoccerblog]

Group D Breakdown

Expected to move on: England, Denmark

Expected to exit in group stage: China, Haiti

England

FIFA Ranking: 4

Reputation:

England is my favorite to win the World Cup. In 2022 they won the European Womens’ championship, cementing their position as a possible winner of the 2023 World Cup. Despite a few major injuries, the Lionesses are in fine form, and have a really solid core group of women with a good mix of veterans and young (but not inexperienced) talent. Their players mostly play at home in the FAWSL, possibly the best women's league in the world. The FAWSL also attracts international talents, so many of these players are already playing with and against their competitors, learning their styles and skills. Their coach Sarina Wiegman has a great record with England, and with the Netherlands in the 2019 World Cup where they made the final. 

Player Pool:

There are a couple veterans that deserve a call out, like defender Lucy Bronzeand midfielder Jordan Nobbs, but the energy and heart that makes this England squad different from past rosters comes in a group of younger players. Lauren Hemp, Alessia Russo, and Chloe Kelly will be playing in their first World Cup, and have been in outstanding form for their English clubs and at the international level. 

2019 WWC performance:

England did well in group play, led in scoring by Ellen White, who really came into her own this World Cup. They notably defeated previous runner up, Japan. They had perhaps the easiest path to the semifinals, taking on Cameroon and Norway. England was unlucky to come up against the USA in the semifinals instead of the finals, but they followed up their loss to the USA with a loss to Sweden, unlike 2015.

China

FIFA Ranking: 14

Reputation:

China used to be really good. Asia Games champions a couple times, deep runs into World Cups and olympics, but no Gold Medals.In the past, they have recruited top basketball, track, and volleyball players to play soccer in order to be faster and taller than their opponents. It’s an interesting strategy that hasn’t...not...worked. But it hasn’t really worked, either. They are showing an international comeback, including beating South Korea  in the 2022 Asian Cup Finals. They have kept up with teams close to them in rankings, but will struggle against any team in the top 10. 

Player Pool:

All of the players on the team except one  play in China, a league that I do not follow, but one player does play in the USA for Racing Louisville FC, Wang Shuang. Their team looks very different than the squad that represented China in 2019, so standout players are generally unpredictable. I would expect veteran forward Wang Shanshan and defender Lou Jiahui to feature in starting lineups.

2019 WWC performance:

China didn’t play horribly, but they weren’t the team seen in previous years either. They sneaked into the group stage after a loss to Germany by salvaging a tie against Spain. They were eliminated by dark horse Italy in the round of sixteen. In total, they only scored 1 goal in all four games, which means their defense maintained two shutouts and limited opponents’ goals quite well. 

Denmark

FIFA Ranking: 18

Reputation: 

If any group has the potential for a ranking upset, it is this one. Denmark, although ranked below China, has been testing their mettle against all of Europe, and have shown themselves to be a worthy inclusion to the World Cup. It is not their first, in fact it is their fourth World Cup, even though they haven’t qualified since 2007. They have been on the edge of qualifying for World Cups in the past couple years, and  now the expanded field of teams has allowed them back in the cloche, and I don’t see them wasting their opportunity. 

Player Pool:

The Denmark roster boasts players across all of the major leagues in Europe–England, France, Germany, Spain, Italy, and Sweden. Captain Pernille Harder plays for Chelsea FC, one of the best of the best clubs in the world, and is the top all-time goalscorer in Danish football history. Forwards Mille Gejl Jensen and Rikke Madsen have found success at their American club, North Carolina Courage, in the 2023 summer season, which likely helped them onto the roster. 

2019 WWC performance:

Did not qualify

Haiti

FIFA Ranking: 55

Reputation: 

Haiti has never played in a world tournament, and their narrow qualification was a very proud moment for the entire country, and for the larger CONCACAF region. They will probably struggle against the other teams in their group, but it will be valuable experience for the players going forward.

Player Pool:

Melchie Dumorney, midfielder, won the CONCACAF qualifying young player of the tournament, and scored the two decisive goals against Chile to qualify for the World Cup. There are a few players that play college soccer in the USA, but the majority of them play for smaller clubs in France, which does give them experience playing european-style soccer.

2019 WWC performance:

Did not qualify

[moonchild-things]

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Removing the Lonely King

Summary: Shōyō Hinata loves volleyball! There is no doubt that all he really thinks about is volleyball. His sister, however, isn’t the same way. Sakura is ready to start her first year of high school at Karasuno with her twin brother and doesn’t really want to do anything, unlike Shōyō. Though she can’t help it when she gets dragged into the antics of the volleyball club.

Word Count: 3583

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THE ONE-HANDED TOSS THAT KAGEYAMA HAD MADE was incredible! Not only did it show how much skill and precision he has as a setter but it tied up the game. There was a moment when the ball had hit the floor on Seijoh’s side that Sakura just about screamed out in excitement. Though she kept herself in check and only clapped loudly. Last thing she’d do is get too emotional at a time like this. However, she’ll be damned if she’d let someone think that she wasn’t invested and supportive. 

During this entire game, it’s been quite the rollercoaster of emotions. Her doubts and hopes constantly flip flopping around from believing that they were actually going to win or lose. Though at this very moment, she was wholeheartedly going to have faith that this game would end with her brother winning. After all the miracles and good luck that they’ve had so far, there’s little to no doubt in her mind that they could lose at this point. 

Yes, her heart was taking over her logical thinking right now. However, there was still a very strong chance that they would win this! She was going to let herself be optimistic right in this moment. That point had changed her opinion in just a few seconds. The growing feeling in her chest was new and slightly confusing, but she’ll let it consume her at this moment. She was elated for her brother and friend.

Everyone was in complete shock over what had happened. Now that the teams were at a deuce, hopefully that meant Karasuno still had a fighting chance. But imagine it, what if Karasuno could beat them! The underdog taking down one of the most elite teams in this tournament, that would be a complete upset.

Seijoh had to call a timeout after that. Not only did they need a break after those intense rallies but now they needed to slow down Karasuno’s momentum. When the boys came over to the side to get some well-deserved water, Nishinyoa was more than excited to greet the troublesome duo. He rubbed their heads harshly with a large smile, “Hey! That was awesome, Hinata, Kageyama!”

Endo smirked at the sight of his tired teammates, “you guys are keeping up with those buffoons, huh? Good job!” Oh, he loved to see the near panicked expression on Oikawa’s face. He seemed to now be realizing that Karasuno was a worthy opponent to knock them down a peg. Sure, they hadn’t done it yet, but it was more of a possibility than Oikawa originally believed. Endo certainly is salivating for the sight of a defeated Tooru.

After getting a quick drink and calming down some, both teams returned to the court. It was Karasuno’s serve and Tanaka was up. “We’ve got the momentum!” Ennoshita encouraged them.

The other boys all yelled, “Nice serve!”

Endo joined in on the cheering, “You got this!” 

“Give it all you’ve got, Tanaka!” Suga yelled in encouragement.

Tanaka served the ball pretty well and the receive that their opponent made was a bit wonky. “It’s a little off!” Shimada exclaimed.

Takinoue was gritting his teeth, “Block! Block!”

They watched as multiple times Shōyō attempted to spike the ball. Though each and every time he tried, it was saved. Sakura noticed that her brother’s jumps were getting shorter. Even if he was able to get a point eventually, it was only because he floated the ball over the block thanks to his jump being short. He was running back and forth too much, and she feared that it was catching up to him. That can’t happen now, he can’t let that happen! She gripped the railing tightly as she watched the game even more intensely than before. Her camera was completely forgotten at this point since she didn’t want to miss a moment of this. The only time she would use her camera at this point, was to capture the moment they won, that was for sure.

“This time…” Takinoue let a large smile spread over his face, “…Karasuno is the one checkmating.” 

Though that feeling didn’t last all that long since Seijoh just got another point and tied the game up once more. “Even if they’re tied, as long as Seijoh doesn’t pull ahead, Karasuno will have advantage. Now…” Shimada said as they watched Oikawa prepared himself to serve the ball. “And now, it’s time for Oikawa to serve again…”

Oikawa got himself into the right headspace before jumping up to serve. It was just as powerful, just as intimidating as all of his other ones, and it was headed straight for Nishinoya. Though thanks to his keen observations, the libero was able to tell that the ball was going out of bounds. Which it did, much to everyone's surprise. So that just meant another point for Karasuno.

Sakura smirked just a little bit at the seeming panic that Oikawa must have been going through. Let him start to lose his cool, start to squirm now that Karasuno was catching up and over powering him. It was a good feeling to see him in that state. Especially after he had annoyed her so last time she saw him. He was cracking under pressure and she hoped that he got crushed by it.

Takinoue smugly smirked, “If he missed a serve, when that’s his strong suit, maybe he’s panicking a bit.”

“Yeah. Even Oikawa…” Even though Shimada and Takinoue thought that Oikawa may be losing it a little, that didn’t mean the rest of the team was. Case and point, Iawzumi had gotten a point back for his team. 

Shimada questioned, “Are you sure Seijoh’s never been to nationals? They’re not breaking at all.”

“No. As far as I know, Shiratorizawa is always the team to go to nationals.” Sakura commented with a shrug. While she hasn’t done all that much research into other schools, one thing is for sure, Shiratorizawa always seems to dominate. They’ll definitely be an obstacle to overcome. Though that was later.

 Takinoue shook his head, “But that doesn’t change Seijoh’s position at all. Even if the physical fatigue they’re feeling is the same, the mental fatigue that Deijoh is feeling is much greater! Get through this Karasuno!”

It was a bit of a blur to some people, others saw it in slow motion, but each team had fought back and forth for points. They fought so hard, that each team got over 30 points! It amazed Sakura quite a bit to see them all like this. The mentality that they must have to be able to keep themselves going for so long is admirable. However, at this point all it could take is one small mistake by one person to end the game. Who knows what that mistake might be, or who it will be that’ll make it. She just hoped that it wasn’t someone on Karasuno, especially her brother.

Though she has high hopes, for the first time in a long time. High hopes that things could turn out positive for Karasuno. After all, if Karasuno is able to keep up with Aoba Johsai like this, then there’s a likely chance of them winning. The percentage of Karasuno winning here has certainly gone up every moment that they stayed on the court. Hopefully that percentage keeps growing and tips the odds into their favor! 

Shimada chewed on his bottom lip in anxiety, “This is rough on both of them.”

“But…” Takinoue started, “I think Karasuno is just barely keeping it together. I think their attacks are becoming simple, too. Seijoh should be worse off, mentally, but…”

The three girls besides them all shouted out, “Oikawa-kun, nice serve!”

Sakura cringed at their high-pitch squeals. She really could go without Oikawa's fan girls. She’ll have a splitting headache from all the shouting and the stress of watching this game. How does Oiakwa deal with these fans? Actually, she thought it over, he probably loved the attention they gave him, that cocky, pretentious setter.

“Gah! That was one full rotation!” Shimada jumped in worry, “He’ll probably have the missed serve on his mind, so I wonder how Oikawa will do.”

“Let’s hope he chokes,” Sakura said blandly, earning some concerned stares from the alumni.

Though even if they wished for the Aoba Johsai captain to mess up once again, it seemed like he had laser focus for this serve. He served the ball, though this time it went straight for Daichi who received it and ended up giving them a chance ball. Even after messing up, he didn’t let that get to him at all! The ball was played back and forth for a moment, but the rally ended with Seijoh’s number 13 getting the point thanks to a feint.

Now with the score of 32-31, Seijoh was at match point. One more point and it was all over for them. As the boys all congregated together to talk strategy, Kageyama seemed lost in thought thinking about his former teammates and how they’ve changed. 

“Kageyama! Stop hesitating!” Suga shouted at him, noticing his conflict, “Everyone on our team is…”

From across the court, Kageyama finished his senpai’s sentence, “...Strong, as they should be.” He turned to see all of his teammates, all of them standing proud and determined in this moment. There was no need for Kageyama to hold back or worry about his team, they were just as capable of handling things themselves.

“Do you think the King is scared of the Great King?” Tsukishima asked no one in particular.

“It’s okay.” Suga smiled with a chuckle, “Kageyama’s not the Lonely King anymore.”

Endo nudged Tsukishima in the arm, “what amazing character development, eh?” The first-year’s eyebrow twitched as he pushed Endo away from him. As if just having him touch him was one of the most disgusting things ever. Endo shook his head at that, “though it’s understandable, Oikawa can be scary at times.” He spoke from experience, he should know it more than anyone really.

Tskishima clicked his tongue,“You’re scared of him?”

The older boy just continued to smile at him, trying to seem unaffected by his question. “He’s extremely powerful, it’s usually good to be cautious of him.” The determination that Oikawa has towards volleyball is terrifying in its own right. If he were able to put his mind to anything, he'd achieve it, at any cost.

Back to the game, Oikawa served once again though this time it was a near perfect float serve. Yea, the Grand King had quite the range of attacks when it came to his serves. With quick reaction time, Daichi was able to save it from hitting the court. Shimada gasped, “It went up!”

“But it’s messed up!” Takinoue exclaimed as they saw that the ball was passed too close to the net. “They won’t be able to use a quick!”

Unable to use Shōyō in that moment, Kageyama set it for Asahi who spiked it but Aoba Johsai ended up getting a one touch. Kindaichi was able to spike the ball back over the net, but Karasuno’s guardian deity was there to save it!

All while this was happening, Sakura was biting the inside of her cheek. It wasn’t a very good idea considering she could taste the slight metallic taste on her tongue now, but she’s too invested to worry about that right now. This is the set that might just end Karasuno’s dream of getting to the nationals this time. So she’ll worry about that later. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the banister like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. She might possibly be working up a sweat just watching this game. All the while, she was just about trembling in worry and exhilaration. A strange combination she will admit, but it definitely made her feel alive!

Shōyō was then at the perfect spot, the perfect time for Kageyama to set him the ball. Kageyama even seemed to have full faith in this play as he sent his signature pin-point toss to the ball of sunshine.

Everything was suddenly in slow motion. 

Nobody saw that block coming, not really. The three man block had stopped Shōyō’s spike. At that moment, Sakura’s heart cracked. No one could save it which meant… Karasuno had lost with a score of 33-31. As the ball hit the ground, the sound echoed throughout the gym. It felt like that was the only sound that could be heard. Karasuno was in shock as Seijoh began to celebrate.

It took a moment for Endo to comprehend it. Maybe even more than just a moment. They lost… That’s not new. They’ve lost before, plenty of times. So why did it feel so much worse!?

For the first time ever… Endo was upset about losing. He stood on the sidelines with his blue eyes wide and mouth turned down in a heavy frown. In this game… he actually wanted to win. Whether it was to rub it in Oikawa’s face or to prove to his father that he could be successful with this team, he didn’t know. 

What he does know is that he felt like crying now. Tears built up in the corners of his eyes, Joji felt like sobbing. At the start of this game, he personally didn’t care if they won or lost. However, winning would make his friends happy, and he wanted that for them. Now, feeling that crushing defeat from Seijoh, he was sad. He wanted to win, he realized. This tournament gave him the opportunity to feel like a champion, and it felt so good. To be the victor of a game was exhilarating. To be a loser was heartbreaking.

He didn’t play in the match, so he shouldn’t feel this way, right? He didn’t have a hand in the points that were made or lost during this game. Though that seemed to just make him feel even worse.

 Suga solemnly stated, “Let's go.” Urging his fellow-benchwarmers to follow him to line up. It took a moment for Endo to break out of his stupor, but he languishly followed after them. He kept himself from crying and put his mask back up on his face, but not even he could completely hide the fact that he was upset.

Sakura watched the way her brother collapsed to the ground. She almost felt like doing the same, she was emotionally exhausted from this, but not as much so as them. So she held herself strong as they lined up to thank each other for the game, shake hands, and lined up to thank their supporters.

Everyone clapped for them, obviously impressed with their fight against Seijoh. Though those claps probably felt like pity to some of Karasuno. They did try their best, it just wasn’t enough…

Shimada clapped loudly and tried to cheer them up, “Great work!”

“That was a great match!” Takinoue called out.

The praise didn’t mean anything to them. The loss was fresh and whatever good thing that anyone had to say to them would go over their heads. It would take a while for them to come to terms with the loss. Perhaps by tonight they would, but who knows for some of them.

“When we lost…” Takinoue said, as he started to speak from experience. “I hated being told we had a great match. It was like, ‘but we lost.’ However, being on the side to say that now, I guess I don’t know what else to say.”

“There’s nothing else to say.” Sakura said blankly as she sighed through her nose. “They lost, plain and simple. All you can do is compliment them on what they did right and point out some skills they should improve on.” She shook her head slightly before saying softly, “they’ll have to do better next time.” Did she feel like crying for her brother? Just a little. Though she did a good job at hiding that. She doesn’t need to add on the emotions at all.

On the court, Karasuno gathered up once more to get their last words from their coach. Most of them were all in their own thoughts, thinking over their loss. Thinking about what they did wrong and how they could have fixed it. What would have happened if they spiked the ball just a little bit more to the left? What would have happened if they had pushed themselves more into a dive to save a ball? Who knows. Though they couldn’t dwell on it too long since they had to leave since the next game was going to start.

“We need to clear out immediately. The next team’s warm-up is starting.” Ukai stated to the group, “We’ll start our cool down upstairs or outside. Seijoh will be going to the quarterfinals after a short break.”

Endo followed after his teammates slowly, off of the gym floor. With one last quick glance over at Oikawa, Endo lumbered after the team. He didn’t want to see Oikawa’s infuriating smile, nor did he want Oikawa to see him like this. There was no need for Oikawa to see him upset like this. There was only one time that Oikawa had seen that, and Endo wouldn’t let this be the second time.

An arm then placed itself over his shoulders, shaking him out of his thoughts. Endo looked up to see that it was Asahi who had drawn him into a side hug as they walked off the court. They stared at each other for a moment, both of them knowing that they needed this comfort at the moment. So Asahi and Endo silently supported each other while following their team out of the gym. They didn’t really need to say anything to each other to know just how they were feeling. All they needed was to be close to each other for right now.

It took a while, but eventually after cleaning themselves up the boys all headed upstairs to grab their team banister. Which meant that Sakura could finally see just how broken up her brother was close up. 

He lumbered up to her like a sad puppy and just plopped himself into her shoulder. Shōyō needed comfort more than anything right now and she would gladly provide it. Sakura swallowed thickly, keeping her emotions at bay as she took a deep breath through her nose. “You guys did well,” she shrugged. “Doesn’t seem like many people can say they lasted against Aoba Johsai that long.” 

“You were right, imouto…” He miserably said into her shoulder.

Sakura closed her eyes in dismay, “Shōyō-”

“Like always.” He pulled away far enough to look at her with the most heartbreaking expression she had ever seen as tears built up in his eyes. “Why didn’t I listen to you?”

It’s not like Sakura wanted to be right. Not this time. If anything, she really wished that she had been proven wrong. The last thing she wants is for her brother to be upset, to be let down like she has in the past. This is the worst thing that she has ever bared witness to. 

In this moment, she didn’t know what to say to him. She’s usually a voice of reason, to at least try and give him some constructive criticisms to focus on for later. Though that didn’t seem to be a good thing to do right now. Bringing up what he might have done wrong in the game certainly would set him off. The last thing she wanted now was to make him feel worse.

With having nothing else to say besides a quiet, “you did your best.” Sakura and Shōyō followed the rest of the team once they got their things and headed downstairs. 

“All right, let’s go get some food.” Ukai called out to them all as they exited the building, “Of course, I’m paying.”

Daichi’s eyebrows furrowed, “Eh? Food? But…”

“Just shut up and eat.” Ukai chuckled as they all filed onto the bus. The team obviously didn’t think that they were going to get treated like this. They did lose after all, what sort of thing did they do to deserve a reward? They all ended up going to a small restaurant that wasn’t too far from the gym. After sitting down at the table and waiting for their food, everything was set for their lunch. Ukai nervously bowed to the owner of the restaurant, “Sorry, Ma’am, for coming in right before you open up.”

The kind owner, an older woman with a warm smile shook her head, “Don’t worry. This used to happen all the time.”

Ukai looked at his team, all of their faces somber as they looked to him for words of encouragement. “Running, jumping, and anything else that stresses your muscles will cause the fibers to tear. Right after a match, like now, your muscles are at their limits, so you’ve got to repair them by eating. That’s how you build muscle, and become stronger. So eat. Eat a proper meal.”

So everyone started to eat in silence after saying thanks for the food. None of them wanted to focus on the loss, just the delicious food. Though that didn’t mean they weren’t upset. Mostly everyone at the table was silently crying. Who knows where they could go from here. All that they need to focus on right now is to eat. To eat and grow stronger so they can start training once again.

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