#muddy hero

[ts3ap9ee]

I love Muddy Hero. It's so good. Literally a masterpiece.

[a3songtournament]

ROUND 1, SIDE B, MATCH 11

The Prince in Full Bloom ~The Floral Prince and His Retainer~ vs Muddy Hero

[depvotee]

NO BUT LIKE I DO HAVE A LOT TO SAY ABT HOW REDMANES BUT MOSTLY FREYJA AND HOW SHE SEES RADAHN OR HOW WE PERCIEVED HIM IN GENERAL, LIKE, JERREN WAS CLOSE TO HIM, TO THE POINT WHERE JERREN KNEW EXACTLY HOW HE WISHED TO DIE BUT EVEN THEN WE DON'T GET 100% IF THAT IS TRUE BUT THEN WE HAVE FREYJA THAT INSTEAD OF FINDING THAT HER GENERAL MIGHT BE CHARMED BY MIQUELLA, SHE DOESN'T FIND THAT TO BE APPALING NEWS AS ANSBACH DID BUT SHE LOOKS IT AS A WAY TO FURTHER PUSH WAR SOMETHING SHE INTERPRETS WAS RADAHN MERE AND ONLY GOAL. THE PROBLEM LAYS THEN IN THE FACT THAT WE NEVER KNOW EXACTLY *WHAT* RADAHN WANTS, HE JUST CAN INTERPRET AND TAKE GUESSES, BUT HE'S THE ONLY DEMIGOD BOSS THAT DOESN'T HAVE ANY LINES.

FREYJA INTERPRETATION OF RADAHN'S GOAL WAS JUST WAR FOR WAR’S SAKE, THERE'S NO FURTHER THOUGHT OR REASON JUST WAR FOR GLORY.

BUT THEN WE HAVE JERREN AND OTHER ACCOUNTS THAT SHOW THAT RADAHN DID HAVE A REASON FOR WAR, HE WAS KIND, HE TOOK AND RESPECTED PEOPLE THAT WEREN'T DEEMED ACCEPTABLE TO THE GOLDEN ORDER HE GAVE THEM RESPECT.

[jasontoddenthusiastt]

“Stop excusing Jason killing just because he died!!1!111!!1”

We don’t excuse his killings, you ignorant fool. We actively encourage it.

[faniestart]

prt 2

[quirkwizard]

Muddiness + Sloshed

New Quirk Name: Hungover

This Emitter type Quirk allows the user to send out a mental pulse in a short range around them. This pulse affects the minds of those around them, feeling like a splitting headache. This hinders the target's mental abilities, making it more difficult to focus on and remember things without a lot of effort on their part, putting them in a state of confusion. The user can be selective about who this targets. This has a mild effect even after the Quirk is in use, still hurting the target's head. This gives the user a powerful deterrent, drastically hindering their ability to act on anything. They can make foes easy targets, prevent them from remembering them, torture people with the pain they feel, hinder those with powers that rely on focus, or simply annoy people that get too close to them. Though this can be easily avoided by staying out of the user's short range or simply knocking them out. This does not outright stop the target from acting, and their belligerent state can be even more dangerous.

[ahsoka-in-a-hood]

I fundamentally see the Republic, the Separatists, and Mandalore, as all ultimately living through the same story, only the exact the timing is different. They all experience genuine issues and corruption within a republic, and they all trade their freedom for a charismatic leader who promises that he can fix it all and make them great again with the use of violence

[tilbageidanmark]

9 year old guitar prodigy Maituo (Lv Junxi) playing the blues

[baura-bear]

Thinking about the other day while I was caving and this one asshole kept scampering about like gollem.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

For anyone reading this, totk spoilers! I assume that since you made that post, you've already watched the cutscene I'm talking about, but I WILL be actually typing this a few lines down just in case I managed to completely misread lmao

That's the thing though, you're right, it is just actual colonization on the part of the Zonai. There's two lines in particular that stick out to me, specifically from Ganondorf. The first is when he mentioned Hyrule's "repeated offers" to join them, which implies that they weren't planning to take no for an answer. The second is "protective embrace", which implies the Gerudo were being attacked, but... on all sides except for north, the Gerudo are surrounded by a sizeable desert (sizable when compared to the rest of the map anyway) which acts as a natural barrier against invasion. If anyone was attacking, it would have to be the Rito... who were already under Hyrule's command. The second one is a bit of a stretch, admittedly, but it's very possible that there were orchestrated attacks as a kind of coersion.

Sorry for the short ramble!! All this to say that you're absolutely right that something doesn't feel quite right, and I am Very Not Happy ab the way the story handles it

that memory did sour the zonai for me, for sure. i feel like a comparison between the zonai in this game and the twili in twilight princess would be a very interesting case study on colonization in fiction. i love the game to bits and i do think there’s a lot of beauty and value in zonai culture and the characters involved, but it is disappointing that the gerudo are framed as “evil” for being resistant to colonization. even if ganondorf is just evil all the way down, and using the the zonai’s attempts at colonization as a means to gain power, that doesn’t make the colonization itself any more justified

[shadowland]

steve marriott and marc ford could have been great friends

[2xmiu]

i've started reading my hero academia fics (NO i will not read or watch the actual source material) and i love the creative ways people take mineta out of class 1-A. maybe he fails the test the first and aizawa WAS serious about expelling, maybe he runs in fear when his classmates start killing each other and is expelled for it, maybe he says something homophobic and is expelled, maybe he just straight up DIES.

[vintagedreamsofsennett]

the one at the very back pulling the rope is Eddy (Mabel's New Hero)

Eddy with a large, white mustache (A Muddy Romance)

[codenamesailordarillium]

I'm sure it was pointed out many moons ago that the gesture of giving a character that was up until this point only portrayed by white male actors a bunch of extra previous lives where they were often a person of color rings hollow when those iterations were subjected to experimentation (which clearly included being murdered in order to further analyze their regeneration capabilities), torture, and a whole lotta gaslighting - and all while being an actual literal child. But I still have to do it bc I'm a salty lil bitch.

[dvchvnde]

EXCERPT: alpha Soap x omega Reader

The call comes at quarter to six.

This deep in the mountains, poor reception makes the air crackle with static when it blooms to life. He answers with fingers numbed from the cold outside, offering little more than a grunt of his acknowledgement.

Spotted somethin' on the edge a'town. Person.

"Person?" He echoes, tapping his finger against the worn, shiny leather of the steering wheel.

It jars him. The idea of a person being out there is strange. Tourist season is over. And now the sky glooms with an encroaching winterstorm—murky brush strokes peppering along the horizon, taken from a washed out easel of a once bountiful autumn palette now muddy and blurred with use, blanketing harsh, dense clouds over the granite skyline. He can't imagine anyone wanting to be out there right now.

"Why?"

Not sure... Local spotted 'em runnin' barefoot through the forest. Ain't dressed for the winter. Omega, too—

Johnny sucks in a sharp breath, fingers tightening around the receiver. Everything sifts through his head, catagorically organised—snow on the ground, barefoot; underdressed—but it skips, snagging over that single word:

Omega.

He scrapes his tongue over his sharpened canines. The pain is grounding for a handful of seconds. Enough time for him to weigh his options: let someone else take it over—Kyle (unmated), Simon (mated with a territorial omega but one he liked to rile up), Price (divorced, unmated)—or taking care of it himself.

A bad idea.

But they all are, really.

His rut is there. Equinoctial. On the edge, the precipice. He can feel it crawling up his spine, tarlike tentacles curling around each vertebrae, jowls gnashing at the sight of his vulnerable stem in sight. Eager to sink it's teeth in.

(him, too, eager to sink his teeth in—)

The wolf that unmakes him each axial precession—vernal, estival, autumnal, and hibernal—prowls in the prison it's kept inside, waiting. Winter is always the worst rut for him. For most alphas, really. The urge to fuck and eat and sleep is a near constant pull in their hindbrain. And without the ability to swallow down tablets to dull the ache in his teeth, and sweat out the fever by running around the forest until he could think beyond the throbbing swell at the base of his cock, it eats him alive every winter.

Drives him mad.

"ahm oan it," he slurs into the plastic voicebox, pawing urgently at the keys in the ignition. He feels hot under his collar. Sweat gathering along his hairline. Condensation blooms over the windows as his fever thrums through his veins, warring with the frigid temperatures outside. Minus ten degrees celsius, his gauge reads.

He clucks his tongue in agitation. No one, much less an omega, should be out in that sort of weather unprepared. Mated or not, whoever's looking out for your safety is going to get the brunt of apologetic, rut-fueled anger.

(Price'd be proud, he thinks, huffing through the heat in his throat—)

The dispatch officer hesitates. The line filling with static briefly as if they, too, are thinking the same thing—

An unmated alpha running after an omega. Potentially unmated as well if they're barefoot and barely dressed in this weather. It feels potentially cataclysmic. Watching the tide recede on the beach and knowing that danger is quickly approaching but being unable to do anything to prevent it.

Natural devastation.

Still. Who else is out here right now that can reach them in time?

The line crackles with their last known location as he puts the truck in drive, and navigates the winding gravel path. An address follows—the omega centre in town, he knows—and it snaps through the truck like a warning.

Be good.

And he will be.

He'll find you, bring you to the shelter before the storm hits, and then find a pretty little thing to fuck the fever out on for the next week. The centre has willing omegas he can pick from. A win-win situation.

He gets to be a hero for a few hours, and then sink his knot into something sweet.

Sit tight, little omega, he thinks, tongue pressed flat to his aching canines. Rescue is coming.

[pseudowho]

A Reliable Man

Sometimes the hero you want, isn't always the hero you need.

A Kiyotaka Ijichi appreciation smutfic.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, loss of virginity

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Ijichi...can you come and collect me, please?"

"Of course. Just send your location over."

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

"Ijichi, it's so late. Are you okay to collect me?"

"Don't worry, I've been waiting. Have you eaten?"

"Oh...I haven't. It's alright, I can sort myself out--"

"I'll pick something up. It's no trouble."

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

"--ah, shit-- Ijichi, call the school-- I need backup, urgently."

"Hold on. Get somewhere safe. I'll call everyone-- anyone. Get to safety. Please."

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

"Ijichi, I--...I can't thank you enough. I wouldn't have made it out of there if you hadn't called for help. I...I really am sorry."

A pause. A soft sigh.

"...please, don't be sorry. You're out there saving lives. You don't have to be sorry about anything."

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

Ijichi--

...your finger hovered over your phone screen. You saw the time; 10pm. You felt a familiar squirm of shame, disgusted by yourself for demanding so much of Kiyotaka Ijichi.

He was off the clock...you were in the middle of nowhere. Somewhere along the way, you had forgotten how hard he worked; while directing all of the assistants should have been a full time job in itself, Ijichi stepped above and beyond, by sacrificing his time, his effort, his safety, shift after shift after shift.

You tapped your phone against your forehead, eyes closed as you sighed. You decided to walk home. It would take you hours, but it was still better than--

Your phone vibrated in your hand. You looked at the screen.

Kiyotaka Ijichi.

You answered immediately, flustered, the words catching in your throat. Ijichi got there first. His voice, calm, soft, worried.

"I just...thought I'd check in. There aren't any drivers on tonight, but you're out on a mission. Are you home yet?" Tears pricked in your eyes, and you gulped.

"Ijichi.. you're not even at work. What are you doing? Calling me? You need a break." You chastised him. He laughed weakly, apologising in a flurry as you told him off.

"--it's my job to make sure you get hom--"

"--no it's not, Ijichi." Silence on the line. Ijichi waited for you, as he had a hundred times before, "It's not your job to get me home. Not every time. You...why are you...you need a break."

Another soft sigh; another warm pause.

"And I'll have a break," he continued, quietly determined, "when you're home safe. Send me your location. I'm on my way."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

He had opened the door for you. Gently laughed off your reproach. The seats were already warm. A hot drink, in a thermos. A snack bar in the glovebox.

Ijichi looked tired; by this point, you weren't sure if that was just his face, but you felt a strange flutter of sweet relief, joy, to be smiled at by him, as if you were worth the late hour and lack of sleep.

Ijichi cast his eyes over you, relaxing, "You're...not hurt. That's good. I'm--...I'm happy to pick you up," he offered, awkwardly, "but I've had enough of scraping you up and dragging you to Shoko."

You felt such prickling uncertainty bubble in you. Why were you suddenly shy in his presence? Why did his eyes casting over you feel so like a caress? Why did you not want the journey to end?

"Dinner," you blurted out, and Ijichi raised his eyebrows, eyes fixed on the road, "we should get dinner. If you've not eaten. I've not eaten. But if you don't want to eat then that's fine too I know it's late--"

"No no no, please don't-- yes, please, dinner sounds...lovely."

You took a moment to look down at yourself; muddy, dirty, bedraggled.

"Uhm...at yours, maybe? We'll order takeout?" You were too busy examining the state of yourself to see the blush that fizzed across Ijichi's sharp cheeks.

"I-- uhm--...sure. Yes. That would be...agreeable."

"So formal, Ijichi."

"Shush. I'm a professional."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"So..." you finished your mouthful, trying not to feel embarrassed about being dressed in one of Ijichi's old t-shirts and sweatpants, "...he really said that? To quit, and get a driving licence?"

Ijichi laughed, his smile parting the clouds and making him look fifteen years younger. You couldn't help but laugh with him, your hand coming to cover your mouth, giggling together on his sofa like teenagers.

Ijichi wiped his eyes, sighing; "Gojo's a force of nature, it's true...but I probably owe him my life. I...feel like I can do more good in my current role, than I could have ever done on the front lines."

Setting down your plate, and wrapping your arms around your knees, you watched Ijichi, fascinated to see him slowly unwind, his loosening coils releasing the stresses of the day. You had never seen him like this...so relaxed. So happy.

You felt another odd squirm, this time a possessive, protective determination that he should never participate in Jujutsu Sorcery. That he should always be safe. You reached out for his hand, stroking his long, smooth fingers in yours.

Ijichi froze, so uncertain about how to react, having never had anyone show interest in him, barely even his parents, let alone a beautiful woman like you--

"You are the lifeblood of the sorcerers, Ijichi," you smiled, "and we'd fall apart without you. I'd fall apart--"

You were close now, almost sat on his lap. Your face was so close to his, that he felt your breath fan against his neck. He couldn't keep pretending he only checked in on you because it was his job. He couldn't keep pretending it barely bothered him when he saw you walk into danger. He couldn't keep pretending he didn't think about you all day and all night--

Ijichi pressed a kiss to your lips so fast, it felt like butterfly's wings. You gaped, wide-eyed, a blush creeping across your cheeks.

"I--I'm so sorry, that was-- that was highly inappropriate of me and I--...mmmfff..."

You had pulled Ijichi in by his collar, continuing the kiss he had started, with such heartfelt sincerity that Ijichi could have cried. You felt the wounds of so many horrible, selfish, unreliable boyfriends past. Ijichi felt the wounds of so many crushes, hopes and rejections past. Neither of you had noticed the treasure beneath your feet for the longest time-- unforgivably long.

Ijichi's hands clenched uncertainly as you kissed him, unsure where they should sit. He happily took your lead, tentatively responding to every press, every fluid movement of your supple lips against his. Only when your tongue swiped across his mouth, did Ijichi groan and respond instinctively, one hand coming up to push his glasses on top of his head, the other snaking to the back of your neck as he tugged you onto his lap.

You had never kissed someone who you knew would fight to the ends of the earth for you, and for whom you would reciprocate without question. A man who appreciated you as you were and wholeheartedly, and about whom you felt the same. A trustworthy man. A sincere man. A reliable man.

You pulled away for a moment, still holding his collar as you straddled his lap, panting against his lips; "Where have you been all my life?"

"In the front seat...just hoping to catch your eye in the mirror."

Crashing your lips against his again, sighing into his mouth, Ijichi's body strained with the heat of your thighs trapping him in. He was desperate to pull his shirt off, to feel your skin on his...except you needed him to act like he knew exactly what he was doing and--

"--wait...wait," Ijichi panted, resting his head against your shoulder, his hair ruffled, a pained grimace on his face. You cupped his cheeks, feeling him, hard and aching beneath you as he squirmed with an uneasy admission.

"I've...I've never-- I haven't--..." Ijichi winced, moving to lean back, mortified and humiliated. You saw his shame start to bubble over, and quickly slammed a lid on the pot. You did not let go of his collar, and did not let him lean back. Instead, you whispered against his lips, enough to make a whimper leave his lips and a drop of pre-cum leave his cock.

"Let's fix that then, shall we?"

Standing, full of divine purpose, you pulled Ijichi to his feet, nuzzling up into his ear until he shivered, his hands ghosting over your hips again.

"My room-- please--" he pressed, smiling into your neck as you laughed, being pushed gently backwards towards his bedroom. Stumbling together into his bedroom, giggling, stealing kisses, and necking like teenagers, you felt yourself thrown back into some sweet young love that you always wanted to have, but never received.

You fell back onto his bed with a bounce and Ijichi stood nervously before you, wanting to follow his instinct to crawl on top of you and bracket you under his arms, but crippled by his lack of confidence. You raised your foot, slipping your toes under his t-shirt and tickling his belly. Ijichi smiled, buckling and grabbing your foot, crawling over you with lovesick eyes. You made it all so easy.

"Ijichi..." you hummed, nosing at his neck, "...whatever your gut tells you to do, is probably right. I trust you. So please, show me what you want."

Ijichi felt shivers down his spine at your open invitation. His fingertips grazed down your plush inner arm, the little squidge of fat between your breast and armpit, the smooth untouched plane beneath your breast. Your eyes fluttered closed, delighted by his reverent touch. His hand gripped your shirt, and you almost felt tears prick in your eyes as he gently shielded your face to pull it off over your head.

Your bra had shifted with wandering hands, and your nipple peeked half-in-half-out, pressed by the edge of the cup. Ijichi ducked his mouth towards it, and you saw him hesitate again. You reached back, undoing your bra and removing it. Your eyes flicked down to his mouth, and back up to his eyes, dark and drunk.

"I'd like that," you whispered, and Ijichi breathed a shuddering gasp of relief before taking your nipple into his mouth, tasting you with open-mouthed sucks and laps. You heard his wet little grumbles of appreciation against your skin, when his hand came up to gently finger the softly yielding squidge of your other breast, Ijichi's fingers playing with your nipple with delighted exploration.

Ijichi was so overstimulated already, so touch-starved, and his cock so rigid, that he felt worryingly close to finishing-- so unable to control his own excitement at exploring someone's body so intimately for the first time. That the body belonged to you, the woman he had been falling in love with for years, was the final nail in the coffin, of him threatening to spill in his boxers.

You felt this in him, already prepared for him to want to curl up and die from embarrassment, if he didn't last. You were thrilled by his worship of you, having been treated as expendable more than once before. Teaching him would be a privilege and an honour. All the while, you failed to see how he taught you the bare basics of being respected and revered by a lover.

Ijichi was finely-tuned to subtle shifts in the atmosphere around him, and he learned quickly what you liked as he took your breasts into his hands and mouth. He felt the flickering of your hips up towards his when he licked you a certain way, and the hairs on his neck stood up to hear the breathy moans from your lips when he countered, pressing his twitching cock down against your clothed pussy.

Feeling a warning trickle of pre-cum, Ijichi pulled away from your breasts with a hiss, wrapped up in need and barely ashamed to hear himself beg you; "--please, I-- gosh, I'm sorry so sorry-- not going-- not going to make it--"

You kissed him again, soft and reassuring, as you finished unbuttoning his shirt. Ijichi moaned, long and shaking, as you draped his tie around your neck, the tails trailing over your wet-nippled breasts.

"God, you're lovely," he blurted out, blushing as you laughed, your head thrown back in genuine joy.

"Not nearly as lovely as you, beautiful man," you purred, ecstatic to see Ijichi's blush deepen when he moved to hide his face, his nose nuzzling in unbridled affection against your neck. Pushing his shirt off his slim shoulders, you raised your feet to hook around his trousers, looking at him with a playful glint.

Ijichi raised his eyebrows in question, and cried out to feel you push his trousers and boxers down, shivering as his cock bobbed out, red-tipped and wet with pre-cum. Ijichi quaked to feel the cool air hit his length, a drip of pre-cum dropping onto your belly.

You felt Ijichi tensed, brittle above you, and knew he risked spilling in your hand if you touched him. Still, you trailed your hand down his belly, nails grazing in the barely-there black hair, before slowly encircling his cock, hot and heavy in your hand.

Ijichi saw stars, his own hand the only one his skin had even known, and groaned into your neck, instinctively bucking into your grip; "--ooohhh, f--...gosh," he whined against you, coughing in alarm as you giggled again, your fingers tightening almost imperceptibly around his length. Your other hand pushed down Ijichi's borrowed sweatpants and your panties.

"...are you ready?" You asked Ijichi, smiling at his enthusiastic nod. You rolled the head of his cock between your folds, wet and warm, and Ijichi's arms almost buckled with the bliss and promise.

You guided Ijichi into you, squeaking as he bucked into you, bottoming out in one thrust. Ijichi snapped, cursing in a way that was so alien to the Ijichi you had always known. He gasped, one hand reaching down to sink into the side of your hip, relishing the way you jolted beneath him as he filled you with ragged thrusts.

Never had a man been so captivated by you. The feeling of Ijichi's inexperienced desperate rutting, was so vastly outweighed by the enthusiasm with which he treated your body. By the time you rolled your hips in time to meet his thrusts, pushing his cock deeply enough that you felt the first hot stirs of pleasure in your belly, Ijichi was crumbling around you.

"--please please please...please please please-- oohhhh fuck-- ooohhh fuck a condom, shi--"

Ijichi came with a strangled cry, so lost in his base instinct to cum inside you, that he couldn't help but let his seed spill into you, in ragged, disjointed bucks. You drank in the bliss on Ijichi's face...slowly seeing it morph into horror, and you were quick to reassure him, peppering kisses on his lips and cheeks.

"You're okay, it's okay...I'm on protection, shhh it's okay, I loved it, I loved it--"

"God I forgot all about you--"

"---you didn't, you did so well, and besides, we've got all night--"

"All ni...? Oh...oh. All night," Ijichi smiled, absolutely burning with adoration, as you burned for him. Your eyes flickered up to his head, and you pressed a hand over your mouth, eyes sparkling.

"...your glasses are still on your head, Ijichi."

"Ah! Oh...gosh."