#or would that be more like deep-ish. i feel as though those mean different things

[transgaysex]

im all OVER the PLACE

[screamforyani]

cariño

warnings ↠ dubcon-ish?, enemies with benefits, handjob, edging, implied intercouse towards the end

a/n ↠ i know this is very out of the blue but i watched atsv and i cant get miguel out of my head

wc. 1.1k

“untie me,” hissed miguel, fangs jutting as his blood-thirsty eyes followed you. 

you let out a hollow laugh the second those words escaped his mouth and met his penetrating stare. to say you and and miguel were enemies would be an understatement. there was something about this guy that irked you in the worst way, but could also turn you on like no other.

the feeling was mutual. you’d never admit a word of this if it wasn’t - not even to yourself. you and miguel had a weird thing going on, the sort of thing where the line between hate and lust grew thinner with each dark, loathing stare he shot you. 

maybe you’d had his cock in you a couple of times. twelve, to be exact, though not that you were counting (because you totally weren’t). not your proudest moments, but the sight of him on his knees, tangled in a weaving of webs made you forget it. his muscles bulged with every endeavor to free himself from your little trick. which was hilarious, because if they were any tighter, they’d burst right through his spandex. 

not that you were complaining. 

“hm, let me think about it,” you hummed, pretending to be deep in thought. “no.”

“i said - untie me. now,” miguel roared, as if it would make any difference. 

you crouched before him, pouting. “what’s the matter, spider-man? can’t handle other people telling you no? you don’t get to be the boss of everyone, cariño.”

you waved your finger in his face, to which miguel responded to with a lean forward as if he were going to bite your wrist off, but you were too quick. 

“woah there, bitey,” you taunted. “get it? that rhymes with spidey. hilarious, don’t you think?”

miguel spat, “you annoy me.”

“it’s a pleasure,” you said, merely grinning. then, you pointed to the extended talon behind his back where his hands were tied, asking, “can i borrow that? thanks.”

you used his talons to poke a hole in the lower half of his suit, promptly tearing at the spandex until the hole expanded. miguel wasn’t exactly pleased, not yet anyways, barking, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“more than you deserve,” you whispered, widening the gap until his half-hard cock was freed. that you inevitably already saw. for obvious reasons, it was difficult for spider-men to conceal their hard-ons. “you guys freeball under these suits? that’s crazy. i mean, not that you’re gonna catch a hard-on fighting the spot, but you never know. i mean, what if some really sexy villain just hits… the spot. get it? the-”

“the spot. yes, i get the joke. shut the hell up,” miguel grumbled, irritated.

you giggled. his annoyed face was too hot. of course, you were riling him up on purpose.

licking a line down your palm, you gently grabbed his cock, stroking him in your hands while looking him in his angry eyes. you saw his features tense, the part that didn’t want to be angry surfacing. the part that wanted to be relieved.

that was all that was wrong with this cranky guy. he just needed some relief in his life, and who better to provide it to him than you, the spider-person he never wanted on this team in the first place but took in because jess had insisted you could be useful. and you were, in more ways than one. not that miguel would ever admit that, though.

“fuck,” miguel grunted, writhing again, though not in an attempt to escape. you knew how to pleasure him and that was your saving grace, but you also knew how to tease. “could you be any slower with that?”

“i could, actually. watch this,” you retorted, now pumping him in no particular hurry. you had time to waste.

your leisure movements were killing miguel slowly. literally. he groaned, “well, could you go any faster?”

“i could,” you repeated with a lilt. “but you’d have to say the magic word.”

“go faster!”

you gave him a mocking frown. “i don’t think that’s it, o’hara.”

“do i have to?”

“do you want to cum?”

miguel winced his eyes closed, heaved a huge sigh, and huffed, “please, go faster.”

“wow, you hit the lottery,” you said, quickening your pace. you loved watching his brows furrow with pleasure, sweat beading at his face.

miguel bit his lip, wanting to be mad at how you satisfied him. it reminded you of when he was buried balls deep inside of you, his weight resting on top of your chest while his teeth clamped into your shoulder, not for the purpose of extracting blood but to smother the sounds of pleasure that escaped him when your cunt was squeezing his dick. almost like he would rather die than let you know you were good for something.

it didn’t matter, though. the telltale signs of arousal manifested themselves in plentiful ways from his body, like the taut ache in his pants when you turned him on a little too much. he got so hard for you, it was ridiculous.

and you were having a ball (you were tempted to make a joke, but resisted for his mental sake). there was something about having an insanely large, strong man who could potentially crush you to smithereens squirming at your mercy. it made warmth spread through your chest and the slyest grin curl onto your lips.

miguel’s hips were thrusting into your palm, an obvious sign that he was on the brink of climax. you’d come to know it by now - he started to lost control, the reins slipping out his hands. and you loved it. you loved how he was a slave to his urges and not the other way around.

“you almost there?” you asked, in spite of being fully aware. 

miguel offered you no words, but the look on his face and his unstill, restless body said enough.

that was when you got the bold idea to withdraw your hand at the very last second, depriving him of what could have been. his wrath was instant. you saw his hips flail in a desperation you’d never seen of him before, his fluttering eyes snapping open to cut at you.

“oopsies,” you sang, smiling innocently.

that was the very last straw for miguel and he broke out of your restraints, having enough of playing weak. you gasped, caught off-guard when he switched on a dime, throwing you against the ground and hovering over you. you parted your lips to speak, but he was quick to shoot a web over your mouth. 

“you talk too much,” miguel growled, cutting your own spandex with his talons, and was pleased to find you were very wet. he fixed himself between your thighs, leaning into your ear to whisper, “and for the record, nobody decides if i cum, cariño.”

[ryuzakistoe]

Her (Chigiri Hyoma x fem!reader)

fluff, angst, angst with happy ending, school au, fem!reader, swearing, jealousy-ish, mentions of his torn ACL, arguing

a/n: y’know what, i might do sae next bc i love him so much

(couldn't really find anything that matched perfectly but that's okay ig)

——

He was the definition of beauty, and everyone at school knew it. His glamorous reddish-pink hair framed his face perfectly, each silky strand falling just between his eyes, enhancing his striking features. Those eyes—an enchanting shade of deep pink—were captivating, complementing his overall allure.

He had the look of a model, with a presence that was nothing short of glamorous. Yet, he chose to dedicate his life to football. His striking appearance wasn’t just for show, though; his physical abilities had a purpose.

With remarkable speed, he was virtually unmatched on the field, moving with a swiftness others could only envy or fear. His speed was remarkable, setting him apart in every game, leaving his opponents in awe—or jealousy.

His extraordinary talent allowed him to score countless goals, making him the star of his team. Soccer was his life—his passion, his purpose—and he poured himself into it fully. Nothing else mattered, and he believed nothing ever would.

That is, until the day he met the new girl.

The moment she walked into his classroom, his world shifted. Her graceful entrance, her hair flowing gently beside her, radiated an effortless beauty. But that wasn’t all that captivated him.

As the morning sunlight bathed her in a warm glow, he couldn't help but notice her smooth, delicate skin and the quiet power of her small smile. His eyes widened as he took in her presence. When her beautifully colored eyes finally roamed across the room and landed on him, he felt a spark he’d never experienced before. Soccer was no longer the only thing that mesmerized him.

His breath caught quietly as his gaze locked with hers. To him, it felt like a blessing—an unspoken gift to have someone so beautiful meet his eyes and hold them. He couldn’t look away, as though she were a magnet drawing him in.

But he wondered: why wasn’t she looking away first? They’d been holding eye contact for what felt like an eternity.

The truth was, she found him just as captivating. She had never seen such beauty. His bright hair seemed to radiate, like a flower irresistibly drawing a butterfly. And his eyes…she couldn’t begin to describe them. They were a stunning shade of pink, like nothing she’d ever seen before.

She could have lingered on every fascinating detail about the boy, but the teacher’s voice snapped her out of her trance.

"Hello? Ms. L/n? Would you like to introduce yourself?"

She shook her head, clearing her thoughts, and offered a shy chuckle. “Yes, I’d love to. Sorry about that.”

The teacher gave a firm nod, indicating for her to begin.

"Hello, everyone. My name is Y/n L/n, and I'll be your new classmate from now on. I hope I get to become good friends with all of you.” She smiled warmly.

That smile…he still didn’t know why it affected him so deeply. But as he glanced around, he felt a flare of annoyance—he wasn’t the only one captivated by her. Others in the room seemed just as taken, drawn to her beauty like moths to a flame.

But he didn’t want them looking at her. She was meant for his eyes only.

But he knew it was almost impossible. That lingering eye contact they shared could easily mean nothing. For all he knew, her gaze might be set on someone else.

It was the first time he’d ever doubted himself. The thought of having a chance with her felt unrealistic. Even with his reputation and titles, his odds seemed to go from nonexistent to barely slim.

What good was such a tiny chance, anyway? It would take a miracle for her to feel the same. But he knew the difference between dreams and reality.

This was just a dream—a dream he wished, more than anything, could come true.

…🌼…

He let out yet another satisfied sigh as the ball brushed the net. Scoring a few goals, he thought, might be the best way to clear his mind, to shake off the image of that beautiful girl wasting her time with some average guy. The thought nagged at him enough that he’d come out here alone, hoping the rhythm of the game would numb it.

Unbeknownst to him, the very girl he was trying to forget was seated on the bleachers, watching him with a gentle smile. As he kicked the ball into the goal again, a sudden applause echoed from the stands.

He turned, and there she was—his mind’s distraction, clapping for him. His ears flushed red, realizing she might have been watching the whole time. Embarrassment mixed with something warm and unexpectedly sweet as he caught sight of her wide grin.

Had she been watching the whole time…?

He stood there, frozen for a moment, before grabbing the ball and moving to the far side of the field, trying his best to ignore her presence. But it was impossible. Knowing she was there, watching him, sent a surge of excitement through him.

Out of all places, she chose to be here. What a surprise.

Each time he tried to shoot, his footing faltered, his nerves fraying under her gaze. No matter how hard he tried to focus on the ball, his mind kept drifting back to her. How could she have this effect on him?

Finally, as he decided to pack up and leave, her image lingering in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the quick footsteps closing in behind him.

"Hey."

Startled by her soft voice, he spun around, eyes widening as he took her in.

And there she was—standing right in front of him, delicate and breathtaking. His mouth parted slightly as he absorbed the sight of her up close. Those beautiful eyes met his, and he felt his heart begin to race.

He couldn’t help but trace his gaze over her features, taking in her soft, gentle eyes, her plush, velvety lips, and the way her silky, flowing hair framed her face. Every inch of her seemed to radiate beauty, as if she were something out of a dream—perfect, unreal, ethereal.

He wasn’t the only one captivated. She couldn’t tear her gaze from him either, caught in the same quiet, electric moment.

She found him just as unreal, just as stunning, with every feature and trait as mesmerizing to her as hers were to him.

After a moment, she broke the silence. "Hey, nice shooting back there," she said, a bit awkwardly.

She continued, "My name’s Y/n L/n, by the way—in case you don’t remember. We’re in the same class–"

"Of course, I remember," he blurted out, interrupting her without thinking.

She paused, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Well, that makes things easier, doesn’t it?"

"But I still don’t know your name," she added, her voice gentle.

Realizing he hadn’t introduced himself, he felt a sudden rush of embarrassment. "Chigiri Hyoma," he replied quickly.

"Chigiri Hyoma, hm?.” she echoed, a warm smile spreading as she tried his name out, savoring it like it held a secret just for her. “I'll remember that.” she continued.

Chigiri felt warmth flood through him at the sound of his name on her lips. It made him feel a mix of nervous excitement and an undeniable happiness. He loved the way she said his name—so much, in fact, that he could listen to her say it a hundred times… no, ten thousand times.

But his thoughts scattered as he noticed her turning to walk away. A pang of disappointment settled in his chest; he wanted to keep talking, to hear her voice just a little longer. He’d do anything to make her stay, even for one more second.

“I’ll see you later, Hyoma! I hope we can become friends!” she called over her shoulder, turning back to flash him a smile.

His eyes widened slightly at her words. The thought of her wanting to come back, wanting to be friends, sent warmth spreading across his skin. It was more than he’d hoped for.

She really wanted to be friends with him? He wouldn’t let this chance slip by.

He’d do anything to get closer to her—maybe even as more than friends someday. But all he knew was that he wanted to be by her side for as long as he could.

…🌼…

Meeting at the football field became their routine, something they both cherished. They would talk about their passions, their dreams, or simply whatever crossed their minds, and each day felt like paradise for the boy. He looked forward to their time together, and she felt the same way. Their presence brought each other comfort, a kind of peace neither had known before.

As their connection deepened, so did their unspoken feelings. They left subtle hints, shared shy smiles, and even had a few intimate, awkward moments. But neither dared to confess their true feelings, each afraid of rejection. Chigiri, especially, doubted he was worthy of her; he convinced himself her heart was set on someone else.

Y/n convinced herself that all he wanted was friendship—nothing more. Doubts and excuses piled up in their minds, each of them pushing aside their "what ifs" to avoid risking the perfect friendship they had. They tried to convince themselves that this connection was fine just the way it was, even as they secretly longed for something deeper.

They told themselves this was fate. But, one way or another, the fate they believed in would take an unexpected turn.

…

"Go, Chigiri!"

Cheers erupted from the bleachers as Chigiri gained possession of the ball. His team was in the lead, and the opposing side was struggling to catch up. The moment the ball touched his foot, the crowd roared with anticipation—they knew he would score. No one ever doubted his speed.

As expected, Chigiri sprinted down the field, closing in on the goal with effortless precision. The noise from the stands swelled as he prepared to shoot, seconds away from sealing the game. This would be the winning goal, and he was the one to bring them victory. With each swift movement, he dodged every opponent who tried to block his path, his speed unmatched and unstoppable.

His eyes shone with determination as the goal opened up before him. But just as he charged forward, he suddenly collapsed. The crowd's roar faded into silence as they watched, stunned, as the player everyone thought would be the hero now lay on the ground, muffling pained cries.

Chigiri's strained grunts were the only sounds echoing across the field, while everyone else stood in shocked silence, absorbing what had just happened. After what felt like an eternity, a few people rushed onto the field to help him.

Y/n’s eyes remained wide, unmoving, as she stood frozen in the crowd. Her mouth hung open, unable to fully process the scene. She had only seen him suddenly fall, as if his own body had betrayed him.

It took her a moment to fully register what had happened, but before she could shake off her shock, her eyes met Chigiri’s. He was being carried off the field, his face tight with pain as they rushed him to get emergency aid.

In that brief, shared eye contact, Chigiri felt a wave of embarrassment and defeat wash over him. Shame gnawed at him, knowing she had seen it all—the near victory, the fall, the failure. He quickly looked away, unable to bear the sudden rush of emotions her gaze stirred in him.

But it was too late. She had already glimpsed everything in his eyes: the hurt, the frustration, the vulnerability. She couldn’t help feeling a pang of pity, yet this was the last thing Chigiri would ever want—from her or anyone else.

…🌼…

He sat on the hospital bed, staring blankly ahead, contemplating his life. Just hours earlier, the doctor had told him to take it easy—his ACL was torn. If he injured it again, his soccer career would be over; he’d never play again.

Fear overcame him. The thought of losing soccer gnawed at him—without it, he didn’t know who he’d be. Soccer was his entire life, his only focus. The whirlwind of thoughts consumed him, until he was pulled back by a knock at the door.

“Chigiri? It’s me… can I come in?”

He didn’t respond. He didn’t want to see her—not after she had witnessed his collapse. How could he face her now? He couldn’t bear to see pity in her eyes.

He didn’t want her to see him like this—weak, defeated. Would she look down on him now?

“Chigiri…?” Her voice was gentle, hesitant.

He paused, wrestling with himself before he finally replied, “I… I want to be alone right now.”

Guilt pricked him as he said it, but he couldn’t face the expression she might have, full of pity or regret. That was the last thing he wanted to see.

“Oh… alright. I understand. I’ll be on my way then.”

The sadness in her voice only made the guilt grow sharper. He wanted her there more than anything, but he knew he wasn’t ready. As he heard her footsteps fade, he let out a sigh he hadn’t realized he was holding.

He leaned his head against the hospital bed’s headboard, closing his eyes. How could he possibly face her?

More than anything, he wanted her to come in, to meet her gaze, those beautiful eyes he’d come to realize he loved. But he wasn’t ready to see the look that might come with it—pity, concern, maybe even disappointment.

He groaned softly, rubbing his hands over his face in frustration. He felt completely lost, unsure what to do or how to feel.

He felt clueless.

…

Weeks passed, and he continued to turn away every visitor. Y/n had come by several times, hoping to see him, but each time, he declined. The guilt gnawed at him—he wanted to let her in more than anything, yet he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not yet.

Now, navigating the school hallways on crutches, he silently prayed not to run into her in this state. But, as if fate had other plans, he spotted a familiar figure ahead.

“Chigiri?”

His body tensed at the sound of her voice. Though it was weird. Even though he’d hoped to avoid her, he couldn’t help feeling a spark of happiness at seeing her again.

But he couldn’t move. He begged his body to move, even just a single step, but nothing happened.

“Oh… Chigiri… are you okay?” Her voice was soft, filled with concern.

Just as he feared, he saw pity in her eyes. A flicker of irritation rose in him. He didn’t want anyone’s pity, especially not hers. He didn’t want to be seen as fragile, someone who needed special care or couldn’t handle himself. He wasn’t some helpless boy, and he didn’t want to be treated as one—especially not by her.

“Chigiri… please, just tell me. Are you okay?”

His jaw clenched, annoyance simmering. Why did it have to be her, the one he cared for so much, that he felt himself wanting to snap at?

“No, Y/n, I’m not okay. Just do me a favor and go away.”

He hadn’t intended for his words to come out so harshly, but the frustration bubbled over. What surprised him wasn’t that she could have easily left; it was that she stood her ground and responded just as fiercely.

“No, Chigiri. I’m not going anywhere. I’m sick and tired of you shutting everyone out and being selfish.”

Her words struck a nerve, igniting his anger. “If you came here to pity me or tell me you care, then just fuck off, Y/n. I don’t need that from anyone right now.” His voice was laced with venom as he focused on the ground, unable to meet her gaze.

She felt a jolt of shock and hurt at his response. Shocked by the audacity he had to speak to her like that and hurt because he was pushing her away when all she wanted to do was help.

“How could I not care, Chigiri? It’s only natural for me to worry about you,” Y/n replied, her voice steady.

“In such a pitiful way? No thanks, I don’t need that.” His tone remained unyielding.

He wanted to avoid this conversation; he knew it would only lead to a pointless back-and-forth. More than anything, he dreaded hearing the words he desperately didn’t want to come from her mouth.

“Why does that matter? I care about you, and ever since the accident, I’ve been worried sick,” she said earnestly.

“And I don’t need that! Don’t you understand? I hate being looked down upon. I hate not being seen as equal or better. I hate feeling helpless. I hate all of this, Y/n!” He shouted, frustration pouring out as he aimed to end the conversation.

He didn’t want to spend another moment here with her.

He hated arguing with her, but her inability to understand his feelings only deepened his frustration.

"But they care about you! I care about you! How is that such a bad thing?!" she shouted back.

"Well, I don’t need that shit from anyone! Especially not you!" he snapped, not considering the weight of his words.

Before he could take them back, something unexpected burst forth from her lips.

"Well, that fucking sucks, doesn’t it?! Because I care for you! I care for you so damn much! When I witnessed that accident, I felt a fear I’ve never known, and all I could think was, 'Is he okay?'

"You can’t stop the people who love you from caring about you! That’s just how it works because I love you, Chigiri! I love you so much! It hurts my heart when you shut me out. I try to be understanding—I really do. But what you’re doing right now is just flat-out shitty.”

His eyes widened as he lifted his head to meet her gaze. Shocked would be an understatement; he was completely taken aback. He never expected an argument to lead to a confession—unless it truly was a confession.

Could he believe the words that had just come out of her mouth? Did she mean it the way he hoped?

Before he could ask, she seemed to read his thoughts. “Yes, Chigiri, this is a confession… I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, especially if you don’t feel the same. I just had to say it—”

“I love you too, Y/n.”

Now it was her turn to be shocked. The realization hit them both, a powerful wave of mutual feeling. Nothing could describe the rush in their chests, the connection that suddenly felt undeniable.

The tension that had hung in the air dissipated, replaced by a steadier sense between them.

They breathed easier now, lost in each other's gaze.

"I love you so much, Y/n. I'm sorry for shutting you out," Chigiri said, breaking the silence.

"It's alright, Chigiri. I forgive you." Y/n smiled softly, never breaking eye contact.

With determination, Chigiri slowly released his grip on the crutches and took a step toward her. To his surprise, he managed to walk unsteadily but steadily forward.

He gently cupped her face in his hands, taking in her features, as beautiful as he remembered. It felt like that day on the field, except this time he was holding her.

His thumb brushed softly beneath her bottom lip as he asked, “Can I?”

A simple nod was all he needed. He leaned in slowly, closing the distance and filling the emptiness between them.

This was their first kiss—clumsy yet sincere, a moment they would both cherish as they navigated through their feelings.

He took the lead, deepening the kiss as he pulled her closer, his right hand sliding to the small of her waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck, matching his movements effortlessly.

Eventually, they broke the kiss, and he gazed at her lovingly, his heart swelling with happiness. Her eyes sparkled with the same affection.

A smile spread across his face as he held her in his arms.

"I love you, Y/n."

"I love you too, Chigiri."

a/n: no words besides that Chigiri is truly an exquisite masterpiece

He's so zesty tho wth😭

[gliphyartfan]

@yanderelinkeduniverse @stars-for-thought @imprisioned-in-the-hole @screaming-until-god-hears-me @crestfallenmermaidan @ice-cream-writes-stuff @linked-heroes @eternadreeblissa

Howdy Howdy! Boy this one should have been posted a few days ago! Sadly I got rather sick and then how to deal with a few other things. I'm good-ish now!

But it's here! And I shall be taking a victory nap as a reward!

This one ran away from me. Did not expect it to follow the path it did. But it happened and I accepted my fate.

(Note to self: Never write about deities, they take full control of the majority of the story, making me write more than planned while they take center stage 😤)

-

-

-

What He saw was the sight of battle.

What He smelled was the scent of blood.

What He heard was the sounds of combat. 

What He felt was the ground rumble below Him and the shifting of the winds. 

Felt the scent of smoke and blood fill His lungs and escape. 

Before Him, beasts that cried for flesh. 

Behind Him, He sensed terror, caution, and pain. 

He did not need to look around to know why He was released. 

Unrestrained beasts that needed to be culled.

The Young Vessel's desire for their deaths urged him forward. 

Yes. He understood well His purpose for being called. 

He raised His sword, uncaring of the sight of beasts instinctively cowering before him. 

It was not an unusual sight for Him.

It was only natural that the weak kneel before Strength.  

It was the way of War. 

The weak bow to the blade. 

But foolishness comes to the weak sooner or later, shown as one of the beasts became brazen enough to charge forward, it's allies even more so as they followed suit.

He hefted His blade above His head. 

And the hoards quickly fell to His might.

—

—

There is a eternal repetition in battle. Repetition in war. 

Use your weapon. Kill your enemy. Move on to the next. 

The methods that war is waged may change as eras pass, but remove all the ideologies that each side has, and the bare bones of it all is the same as the very first war to ever be waged. 

There are the Victors, and there are the Defeated.

 All of them have blood on their hands. 

Gods are no different from mortals in that aspect. Despite what many, divine included, may say otherwise. 

If it were not so, the Fierce Deity would have no need to exist. Perhaps he would have long been granted the Fine Rest all souls earn inevitably. 

Imprisonment within the mask did not mean death of who He was. Even within the wooden cage, the Drums of War called to Him constantly. 

Battle urged Him to come. To lay waste against those He would claim as enemies. 

Having a hand in Majora's death was a satisfying return to the mortal plane. 

But to bond with the young vessel that He laid claim to. A soul that could hold His power without risk of corruption. It lead much change for Him.

He sensed the Soul long before he ever step foot in that place of mourning and memories. Sensed the touch of divinity that coated his soul. (A touch that displeased him, though he had not yet known why) 

A seemingly fragile shell with a Soul that wielded such uncanny Strength. 

The boy had been far from his reach when he had first been made aware of it's presence, yet the boy's soul strongly reached for Him, as if it had known Him longer than the mortal shell had lived.

Many times the connection they held, fragile as it was, would strengthen without warning, then weaken after some time. 

The sense of Divinity would ting within those moments. 

The soul echoed it's emotions to Him when their connection grew during those times. 

What emotions they were. 

The force of them all pulled at His attention, left Him unable to return to the silence that his prison wrapped Him in. 

Turbulent. Like a raging storm. 

Yet at some point, it dulled. Repressed itself deep within. Yet with focus He could feel the raging force within longing to be released upon those that had wronged it's shell. 

 The urge would sometimes overtake the boy.

When it did, the feeling of loss would overwhelm them both. It was an agony that He felt through his incorporeal being every single moment until the connection would fade back to fragility.

Soon the connection no longer fluctuated in strength. 

But it did grow closer. 

and with it's nearing, it was inevitable that He would come to learn the reason behind the turmoil he perceived within it.

—

—

Young, weary yet hardened eyes took in the lands that held his prison. 

Lands that did, yet did not, exist.  

Still, those same eyes took in the life in this world, saw it with familiarity that one his age should not have. 

He was a shell that was Weak. 

Or so He had thought. In the beginning, at the very least. 

He had not meant to speak to the boy when he sent foot within the land of timeless death, merely choosing to speak into the silence, aware that any answer would not be made. 

Yet He had not been displeased when the boy answered Him back without a moment of hesitation. Even less displeased when the boy was unbothered by His return to silence.

He watched how those eyes remained dulled and unfeeling as the cycle of repetition continued. 

 They did not waver even when He spoke to the boy.

And still He watched. Witnessed the cycles repeating themselves, over and over again in this Timeless land.

The boy collected the masks, assisted every person that he could, and with each mask granted to him, their connection strengthened. 

A question asked by Him for every moment the child Fell to the First Day. 

The child would answer without fear or question. 

The child who opened his very soul to Him.

It was...interesting...to watch this strange boy, to be allowed to witness all that made him who he was. 

To see the vessel grown to match the strength of his Soul, to sense His claim over him within those memories despite never having claimed him before. 

To witness the battles that had Once been fought by his hand. 

To see others with souls as strong as his. Hardened through trials that no mere warrior could face without becoming corrupted.

To see them all slowly soften within the presence of a mere mortal girl. 

She was a curiosity at most. Though an ignorable presence at minimum. 

A being from another reality all together. One that does not have active gods nor active magic. 

The world may have arose from Chaos but magic has always rested against the surface of the lands. To know of a world that exists without such foundations...that was what caught His eye. 

He supposed the girl had a way with words and actions. Easily able to ease the sorrows of His Vessel and his companions with well meaning acts of kindness. 

A maternal hand. Perhaps a touch uncommon for a woman of her age without young ones, but not out of the ordinary for someone to be naturally caring. 

She was a curiosity. But a dull one. 

In the beginning. 

Yet he watched the memories that may as well also be His as His Vessel sharpened his blade and slaughtered all those that dare endanger her. 

How he and his companions nearly tore one another apart in a bid to claim a place within the one who's heart they desired to protect and cherish. 

It was then He began to focus on who the woman was.

This woman was knowledgeable as a royal scholar, wise with words in a way that even the most experienced ambassadors could not best. 

A heart that opened itself to those that had good souls yet a steel gaze that was ready to pierce anyone who would dare to fool her. 

In a way, all that was lacking was physical strength. 

It was utterly fascinating to witness. 

The souls of the Hylian Lands, they grew too used to peace. Rarely was war fought unless the Demon heir rose to bring it forth. The souls here preferring to stay in their ignorant comfort as the Goddess sent her Chosen Sacrifice of the era to do her bidding. 

Yet this one soul, one without magic nor blessings... 

Yes...He longed to see how much this woman's strength grew. 

This woman was not as fragile as He first assumed. 

He wondered, how she would take to the blade. 

Perhaps a spear? Nothing so fragile as a Bow nor dagger. No, this woman would not be pleased fighting at a distance. 

He wondered what expression she would show as she felled her enemies? 

What gaze would pierce her dying foes as she cut into their flesh? 

She was truly an...enigma...

Fragile yet strong. 

Heart of kindness yet a heart willing to steel itself in the face of adversity and manipulation. 

The only true reason His Vessel and his brothers succeeded in hiding the actions they committed, was simply because she saw no reason to suspect them. 

They would not have done so well, had she viewed them as adversaries. 

Indeed, The being that He once was, in a time no longer existent, had assumed too hastily.

 She was a match for Him and His. More so than any of the Goddess' blood. 

A soul worthy of His blessing and protection. 

It would indeed take a strong soul to attract the hearts of those who the Goddess of the Hylian land would dare claim as Hers.

A sense of peace was instant her presence, one that His Vessel had never held before. 

A peace that spread amongst those His Vessel eventually claimed as Sword Brothers. 

Yet...even the Deity of War knew such peace was always at risk of being ripped from mortals who were not cautious. 

And inevitably, the woman was stolen from them. (From Him.) 

His Vessel and his brothers broken by her absence. (His immense displeasure at their failings) 

Then...power. Much of it. Colliding and mixing in ways such differences each power held should not. 

And then...His Vessel woke again. Body once more that of a child. 

Awakening just as He took notice of the sudden connection that they shared. 

One that should not have existed, yet had always been there.

It seemed the Vessel was as aware of their connection as He was. Perhaps that familiarity was enough for his mind,unbalanced as it was, to hold on. 

He supposed His being had been used for worse purposes before. He saw no shame in a fellow warrior finding a semblance of grounding within the presence of a comrade. 

When the moment came that his wooden prison was placed in his Vessel's hand, their connection solidified instantly. 

Odd it was, to feel such a...sense of rightness. 

This...was His Vessel. 

How the boy relaxed upon wielding His mask. His power, His Being, coursing through his mortal veins, as the young Vessel's form adapted to house His soul. 

As it was always meant to. 

( When He returns to His prison at the end of their battle with Majora, He ponders what thoughts would fill the Great Ones of the Beyond. Should they ever learn of the Goddesses' actions? What would the Great Ones think of the Divine Maidens, sending infants to fight Their wars?)

—

—

He recognized the souls approaching Him from His Vessel's memory.

Where the other warriors treaded cautiously around Him, these souls walked without fear nor arrogance. 

His Vessel was not pleased by their presence. 

(his hurt echoing through Him at the sight of them.) 

'Leave.' His Vessel's presence echoed within him. 

Leave?

His Vessel? Unwilling to face them? Those that his heart claims as his own? 

Unwilling to face the possibility that they would view him with unfamiliar eyes? 

(Such an strong yet vulnerable soul His Vessel was.)

It was rather humorous to note. 

The two warriors drew near and stopped before Him. Each standing a bit further away as if in respect of His Presence.

Murmurs from the surrounding troops gradually spread out over the temporary encampment.  Easily ignored, He did not care for any attention paid His way.

He awaited their next action, silent as he was gazed upon by those that may or may not know Him and His well. 

The two sides stared at one another, His mind immediately noted similarities between the two men and his Vessel.

Both possessed powerful souls, His Vessel's own soul calling out to it's brethren. 

Their bodies relaxed, their hands visible. As if to assure him that they mean no harm. 

But their eyes, such gazes hid many intentions. Yet they were clear to Him with ease. 

...No, it was not that He was able to see their their facade. It was that they were not bothering to hide it from Him. 

They sought Him-sought out His Vessel whilst playing the part of oblivious men. 

And the intimidated men surrounding them, all were blind by such a weak farce.  

It seemed they were done with their inspection of Him as He was with them. 

The younger one took a step forward but was stopped by the elder one's arm. 

The elder one ('Captain' His Vessel's thought echoed through Him.), stepped forward, closing the space between then til he was naught by a few feet away. 

"May your sword never dull." The warrior greeted him, the corner of his lips turning upward in a faint smirk. 

"Though if it must dull, May it dull after your enemies are long since slain." 

It seems His Vessel saw fit to teach them proper greetings. Curious. (As was the surprising echoing from His Vessel.) 

"Captain," one of the men in the crowd whispered toward the elder warrior, "He's dangerous! Ally or no, we can't risk antagonizing him!"

Without a hint of regarded to the whispered warning, the captain pressed his sword hand horizontally across his abdomen, bowing deeply to Him. 

"We are honored by your presence, Great Deity, and your assistance in winning this battle." The captain spoke, voice calm and respectful "May we prove ourselves worthy of your continued favor in this war."

"...You speak well." Amusement sparked within Him as the men surrounding them jumped at His voice. 

Yet His Vessel's brethren were not phased. 

"I am honored by your acknowledgement." The captain replied smoothly, "I was taught well by a most trusted comrade." 

His Vessel had indeed taught him well. Not many would greet Him with such respect and sincerity. 

Even if His vessel was still displeased with the situation at hand. The urge to leave pulsing through their connection. 

...He naturally chose to ignore it. (The annoyance that pulsed soon after indicated that His Vessel was very aware of his intentional ignorance.) 

He observed the captain, noting His Vessel's emotions as he watched the man straightened. 

 Peace mixed with quiet joy. Yet also anxiousness and frustration. 

Truly was His Vessel willing to hide away in order to avoid facing what troubles him? 

Always so childish when it comes to matters of heart and soul. 

No matter to Him, He had no wish to linger amongst solders who could not muster the courage to look Him in the eyes. 

'I've faced my share of battles today.' He spoke to His Vessel, pulses of confusion and sudden panic swept through Him as He reached up and covered His face with His hand.

'Now you face yours.' And He released His hold on His Vessel, His power being pulled back into His wooden prison. 

---

---

Warriors watched as a bright flash of light consumed the surrounding area, exclamations filled the air yet the light faded as quickly as it appeared. 

Where the Fierce Deity once stood, now the men saw- 

"Is that a child?" 

The young boy, perhaps a bit younger than the Hero of Winds, stood there, mask in hand. 

Bafflement clear on his face as he stared straight at the Captain. 

"Hello Hero of Time." Warriors greeted him, a hand resting on his hip, his words inciting more whispers. 

Time blinked repeatedly, lowering his gaze to the mask in his hand. 

Slowly, his gaping mouth twisted into a scowl, and without a moment of hesitation, he threw the deity's mask to the ground before him. 

"Damned God!" He exclaimed angrily, even as the surrounding men because to quickly step back, faces rapidly paling at the young hero's actions. "A devil more like! Always putting me on the spot when I least want his damned input!" 

Warriors chuckled, which slowly turned into a laugh. 

Wind behind him, biting his bottom lip and trying to stay silent despite his shoulders shaking from his own laughter. 

---

---

"Oh, I haven't laughed like that in ages!" Warriors commented, still chuckling as they settled in a isolated corner of the encampment. 

It had taken some time to calm his men, but eventually he had managed to guide Wind and Time away with him. 

"They all looked like you insulted their mother." Wind snickered, legs kicking against the crate he sat on. "Then again, they'd probably look less insulted if you had." 

"Moments like this makes me wonder why I let that one put me in the spotlight." Time grumbled, sitting on the ground and resting against the crate Wind sat on. 

"Well, it seems he simply wanted you to stop trying to hide away." Warriors suggested, reaching behind him and unclasping the waterskin from his belt and holding it put to Time.

"Here, I doubt all that fighting in this soot filled air has done your tongue any favors." 

Time eyed the hand before accepting the waterskin and taking a drink. 

Silence reigned in their small corner.

Wind humming quietly as Time stared at the ground at his feet. 

"...How have you been, my sword brother?" Warriors asked watching as Time set the waterskin aside as he shifted slightly against the crate.

"...I suppose I could be worse." Time replied.  "I've been better, considering I don't feel quite as alone anymore."

"It's a nice feeling." Warriors agreed,  smiling at his brother fondly.

"Mn."

Another silence reigned as Time stared at the ground.

"…Do you want to talk about it?"

"What is there to talk about?" Time said, "I woke in a body I had long thought I would never be forced to wear again. Forced to see the faces of my allies look at me with unfamiliarity. To bow my head towards the Goddess' heir.  To journey again through places I never wished to traverse again." Time spoke through his teeth, his breath escaping in a hiss. 

"All while trying to differentiate between truth and fiction within the confines of my own mind." He laughed bitterly. 

"No, I don't have much going on in my life." 

"Well pardon me for assuming you've been struggling." Warriors commented sarcastically. 

He expected no answer to that but instead received only a scoffed laugh as Time leaned back against the crates once more. "Of course not. It would just be foolish on my part to assume otherwise, when the last time I was faced with the reality of a future that does not exist."

Warriors fell silent.

"But...you know it happened." Wind piped up. "We both remember it too, three for three. So that means the others must remember too." 

That earned an agreeing hum from Time who didn't utter anything else.

"But why didn't you find us?" Warrior continued, "Why not find us so you could share your burden with ones who knows what it feels like?"

"Because I... couldn't burden you with something as trivial as-" He cut himself off, "-I mean-" 

Time sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, his expression was solemn, his youthful face contrasting with such an old expression.

"I'm...nowhere near the end of this curse." 

"Time-" 

"How long will it be for you both, before we are all united once again." He asked, "One? Two? A few years at most?" 

Wind and Warriors stayed silent. 

"But what about me? Trapped in a child's body once again, and every aspect that comes with such a curse." 

"Pardon if this may sound offending, but is it truly as bad as you say?" Warriors questioned.

"You are not the one who must wait decades to reunite with everyone." Time snapped, turning his gaze away from them to glare up at the darkening sky.

"I logically thought of all the benefits that came with this circumstance of renewal. What I could improve from my previous path. What I could change." Time left out a quiet laugh, face twisting into a weak smile before it return to the frown it had.

"I tried to see everything from the perspective of someone who could return to our goddess with strength and wealth that would benefit her and her happiness." He shook his head, eyes closing. 

"But it was not returning to my past that hurt. Nor was it that all my efforts in the previous life was erased like wind blowing away words written in sand. To be looked at with pitying eyes who only see a child, no matter the efforts I do to prove otherwise." He opened his eyes, tears glistening at the corners and threatening to fall. 

"What truly hurts is the length of time that I must wait to return to you all. Not to even bring up the length until we reunite with our beloved." 

His eyes burned as the two other men stayed silent and patient.

(He hadn't even realized he had started shedding tears until Wind's hand gently rested on his shoulder and squeezed it tight.)

"I..."

His voice broke as he spoke, though he swallowed down the emotion before letting out another sob.

"There's nothing I want more than for us all to be reunited again, even moreso being reunited with our beloved." He whispered, "Yet I can barely handle it. The pain, knowing I'll spend decades waiting for my comrades to come together once more. In a way, seeing you both now is like salt on the wound, a wound that is then grind down by one's heel." 

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes tightly, as a choked laugh escaped his throat.

"I'm sure you heard of the failed assault against the sorceress' forces? The one led by the Lieutenant General Doza?"

"He tried to lead an assault through the Palace of Twilight, right?" Wind  stated, "And failed half way through, along with the slaughter of most of his men. . After that, he sent a message requesting for rescue and stating that the sorceress' forces are stronger than ever."

"Which they now are, thanks to his disregard of the warnings they received." Time spat,  eyes opening wide as his tone went sharp and cold.

"He also claimed that he was 'caught unawares', and that if he had be 'properly forewarned', he would have succeeded."

"Something tells me he had been forewarned." Warriors remarked calmly.

"He was," Time answered, "By me." 

"...What?" Warrior frowned.

"Before he neared the palace, I had crossed paths with him. I recalled you mentioning last time how the previous assault also failed and I had approached him with 'advice.'" He explained with a scowl. "He laughed at me and told me little children should not play at being a soldier. He ordered some of his men to escort me to safety while he marched his men forward." 

"That arrogant-" Warriors pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply. "Seems the death of his captain took the last of his senses. I lent him some of my men. The very same ones who lost their lives there."

"The attack failed against the sorceress, as expected. The only reason there were any soldiers left to save was because I requested reinforcements after I was shoved to one of the far bases." Time continued.

"Didn't really stick around to see if they came in time, left as soon as I sent the message." 

"That explains why I was praised for my foresight in the rescue." Warriors muttered. 

"I knew how to make it seem like you wrote it, so I took advantage of that." Time sighed. 

"Lives lost due to arrogance and overconfidence in one's position. Worst part? He'll never admit to it. Even if I had been an adult." 

"Men like him never want someone else to order them around." Wind commented. "Is that why you've been sticking as the Deity?" 

"He's imposing enough to make sure no one tries to treat me like a child." Time answered smoothly. 

"Yet you were hoping that you could use him to bypass speaking to us." Warriors placed his hands on his hips, Time looked away. 

"I already told you why." 

"Yes, but why didn't you try talking to us sooner?" Warriors demanded. "The failed assault happened two weeks prior, where were you?" 

"Does it even matter?" Time asked tiredly. 

"Not particularly, but I'd still prefer if you would at least tell us why." Warriors said.

Silence reigned for awhile.

Finally, a sigh left Time's lips.

"I was scared." He admitted.

"..Scared?"

"Don't tell me neither of you were scared at the possible idea none of us remembered." Time scoffed. 

Silence descended upon them once more.

"I was terrified." He confessed quietly, "I was petrified of facing you both, of seeing your faces look at me with unfamiliarity." 

He rubbed his cheek with his hand, "I could barely stomach returning to my child's body. But seeing you both look at me with unfamiliar eyes? That would have broken me." 

"But we do remember." Warriors quietly stated, taking a step forward. 

"But I didn't know that yet, did I?" Time smirked weakly at him. 

"Believe me, hearing you greet the deity as you did and knowing you could only do so if you remembered." He sighed calmly, "It lit my heart with so much joy." 

"But then I suppose I became a coward in the time we have been apart. Here I was, willing to hide away so you would not see me like this." He motioned to himself. 

"So I attempted the coward's way out of speaking to you." He snorted softly. "And you saw how that turned out." 

Warriors took a step forward, then another. Slowly making his way to Time and kneeling before him. 

"I'm sorry my sword brother." Warriors said softly, making Time look at him. 

"Why are you sorry?"  He frowned, looking away again.

"If I'd known it meant you this much pain, I might have stopped and thought things through better." He shook his head.

"No..I-" Warriors sighed, "I'm sorry that out of all of us, you suffer the burden of years. Something no sword can defeat. That you would be left alone in your era with no true support. With no one who could hear your words and know it to be true." 

"I don't deserve such understanding, or apologies." His hands balled into fists, knuckles turning white and turning almost translucent under the strain. "None of us do for our arrogance." 

"None of us do," Warriors repeated in agreement, "But that doesn't mean we shouldn't be forgiven. Or rather, cared enough about, to forgive ourselves."

"You-" 

"We...have much to atone for. For trying to trap our beloved in a cage of our own making." He continued, "And for not being able to see it until it was too late."

He reached out slowly, taking hold of Time's shaking hands, and gave them both a gentle squeeze, Wind's hand never having left Time's shoulder. 

"But we are here. For each other. And we will stand beside you, until it is time for us to part once more." He slowly leaned his head down, pressing his forehead against Time's. 

"And when we reunite once again. We will stand by you, always. Just as you would always stand by us." 

Time stared at Warriors, mouth slightly agape.

His eyes shone bright with unshed tears 

Time blinked rapidly, the tears spilling freely. Warriors reached up and pulled him, and Wind, into a hug, letting Time bury his head in his chest and hold on tight.

"Let me go. Please." He said through his tears.

"Never."

"Please Captain-"

"Let us have this." Warriors pleaded softly to him. 

"We won't let you go." Wind agreed firmly, burying his own face against Time's shoulder. "We don't want to, not when you need this as much as we do." 

They felt Time shudder against them, and soon, he nodded. 

 They held him closer, silent as they soon heard his sobs grow louder and louder.

"I'm sorry." He sobbed, pressing his face against Warriors' tunic. "I'm sorry." 

"We're here." Was all that was said in reply. 

Time said nothing more as he continued to cry. 

Allowing himself to finally let go within the arms of the few who had his complete trust.

[utilitycaster]

(you don't need to publish this because a) it's not a question and b) I don't want that maybe you're getting attacked/vagueblogged over it) I just wanted to say, that I originally came to your blog because of your nuanced, deep and really really good Caleb meta and that Imogenfans are missing out big time. I think, if Im/odna fans wouldn't have acted the way they did and talented people hadn't stopped writing meta about them, at least I would have warmed up to the characters way more....

Hi anon,

I hope you don't mind me publishing it anyway just because it's a good opportunity to elaborate on a few rather fanwanky feelings in one brief-ish statement.

I don't really care if people vague me and I think people who don't like being vagued are valid, but people who don't like being vagued, whine about it, and then continue to vague others are, understandably, idiots making the situation worse. Most people who had issues with being vagued re: the above simply stopped writing meta, which is why there's not much of it. Also a lot of what people call vaguing is just meta that disagrees with theirs, to be honest. I mean I do vague, a lot, and I'm very good at it, but I've also written 100% good faith meta about things I was thinking about the narrative without consideration of other peoples' opinions and it was called vaguing because I used aggressive tactics like citing my sources.

I've covered the fact that Imogen was actually treated very similarly to Caleb with the key difference that people who wrote meta about Caleb were treated badly by his haters, whereas people who wrote meta about Imogen were treated badly by her then-supporters who are now mostly defending Ashton and Dorian because Imogen started saying things they don't like and don't want to address. I just want to reiterate that if someone ever says that The Male Characters Played By White Actors Never Receive Hate you should just block them and stop taking them seriously. The hate is obviously not motivated by bigotry against real people, typically (though some criticism of Veth was certainly misogynistic even though Sam is a man, for example) but they still did receive pretty intense hate. It is kind of telling, personally, re a certain lack of backbone that people will bring up the horrible things people said about Liam or Travis or Taliesin in their own defense and then turn around and willingly engage with the people making these accusations they clearly know to be false, but you know. Unsurprising.

I tried to write something longer that really dug into the outline of events but it really comes down to this: a lot of the direct harassment (not vagueing) of meta writers, especially with regards to Imogen or Laudna, occurred during episodes like...20-50 of this campaign, and I think those doing the harassment either thought this would somehow make meta writers go "oh my god you're so right about the thing that you said I should die for not agreeing with, I'm going to write meta for you now" or that this would shut them down but wouldn't make other meta writers say "oh this environment has become hostile", which obviously it would. Coupled with the fact that this is when a lot of meta writers realized the campaign pacing was fucked and the party wasn't clicking in the same way past ones had and it really turned into a case of high risk of unpleasantness for a not really worth it reward for many of the meta writers who were around in earlier campaigns, and that in TURN meant that it's harder to have a good conversation without having existing chats so it's a less pleasant place for new fans. Anyway uh. I think the lesson here is that those C2 meta writers ARE around for Midst and Candela Obscura so it's also kind of a waiting game in the event that there is a future campaign (and if not, they will still be here for Midst/Candela/Possibly Daggerheart or future EXUs); they're just not here to write about Imogen or Laudna because it's not worth the trouble.

[katyspersonal]

What is your opinion on our silly tree pope ?

Oh, that FUCKING bitch motherfucker fuck, god I hate him so much, I'd strangle him if his stupid wooden neck was not so thick,

Sorry, I meant to say YAYYYY what a cool compelling character, truly one of the most iconic and interesting ones in Dark Souls trilogy!! Really great battle especially!

Okay in all seriousness now, it isn't even a shitpost and my feelings towards him are a bit unstable. He is a rare case of a villain who is not even morally grey. The guy was born in the place for those neglected, unwanted, discarded or just not feeling like they belonged to the "actual" world and made his liberation from it everyone else's problem!

I do think that in general Dark Souls trilogy benefits from a change that is having a character who is just bad and corrupt power-hungry tyrant, as every other character at least had interests of humanity and/or the world in general in mind! Nuanced characters go harder when there are contrasting ones! But also this is what makes my opinion shift from wanting to bully the bastard to finding him fun or even attractive, depending on the mood.

There are some things I want to address though regarding how I interpret the character! I had another post where I've discussed my interpretation of what kind of creature he is exactly ( x )! In short; I believe he is 25% tree and 75% human, but is Just Like That rather than having been human(ish) before becoming corrupted into a more tree-like form. As for his motivations.. I don't think that he wanted to end the Age of Fire specifically, but rather that he is an opportunistic asshole and will roll with whatever helps him! Helps with what? Well, it ranges from having total control to simply surviving, which I think is what happened between him and Aldrich!

Japanese original makes it a bit more clear that Sulyvahn "eventually" fed Gwyndolin to Aldrich, that gives me feeling as though it was not his original intention, but... Seeing that he did imprison Yorshka and is hiding her from Aldrich, and at first imprisoned Gwyndolin too, I think his motivation was to usurp the power. He is opportunistic asshole that wants control! And what could give more of that than being THE pope of Way of White?

At first, that was accomplished through Gwyndolin, and I have a strong impression that he fed the guy to Aldrich as means of self-defence. I'd say it is even more likely how Sulyvahn looks like quite a mess with his clothes being thorn, so maybe he was fighting against Aldrich before managing to buy himself time, or mercy altogether, by offering him Gwyndolin instead. If he was a huge simp of Aldrich that just wanted the Age of Fire to be done with, I think he should have offered him Yorshka as well for a good measure! The fact that he keeps her a secret from him gives me an impression that he saves her just in case if 1) Age of Deep thing fails and he'll need another person to puppet that Yorshka would work as or 2) Aldrich attempts coming for him another time and he'll need another offering, so he has to 'space out' people he's offering to keep his own ass safe!

+ I also want to add that another possible argument in favour of Sulyvahn presumably wanting to end the Age of Fire is unclear identity of Lothric's secret teacher who was said to be sceptical about the Fire. Likely, that teacher was the one who convinced Lothric to refuse to burn to begin with, too.

Yeah yeah @heraldofcrow shuddup about the misspelling lol

I do think that the secret teacher in question was actually Aldia! And I am gonna cheat this time and share the video that explains it better than I could, but in my defence my arguments would be the same:

(In summary: it would be strange for the pope to come in a "secret" + who else is known as the first scholar AND knew that Fire couldn't do shit? + spells Soul Geyser and Soul Stream are actually the same spell and different names are localisation liberty, whereas this spell is creation of Aldia and in DS3 is found in the Grand Archives!)

Sulyvahn was also a smart and curious sorcerer, but I am not convinced so far that he got some transcendental ideas on how the Age of Fire is a doomed ordeal and Aldrich's vision was more efficient. I get an impression that he just IS one of the corrupt miserable idiots that will hold onto the power even if it is falling apart at the seams and harming everyone for as long as they can, and if he is to "help" Aldrich then either in the interest of self-preservation or in an attempt to control everything through Aldrich. My current headcanon is also that Sulyvahn was the one to burn Aldrich the first time since Aldrich himself would not have interest in being Lord of Cinder with his own idea in mind, so all problems are caused by.... well, Aldrich crawling back up with vengeance..

_________________________

I think I covered the basics about this character! Yeahhhh I know I state that he is 'just bad' as a matter of fact, when it lingers on my reading and interpretation like every goddamn thing in Soulsborne..

I guess my point is that he IS a fun character and good for his role, just not good enough for ME to obsess over or anything like that!

[spaceorphan18]

Do you think some of the Hummelberry friendship could be attributed to survival mode and later trauma-bonding because of the break-ups and later Finn dying?

this is such an interesting question nonny! I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get to it! I mean, yes-ish? The break ups -- not really but Finn dying definitely.

Sometimes I find it hard to analyze Hummelberry because I'm always coming from the writers' perspective of they needed Rachel Berry to have a best friend and Kurt was popular so they made it happen.

I know they were planting seeds of Hummelberry in Season 2, and namely BTW and New York they kind of started this whole thing about the two of them bonding over having a shared dream of Broadway but I think Season 3 is where the deconstructing really becomes beneficial.

And an interesting take - more so than the shared dream - is this idea that Kurt now has a (literal) brother in Finn and Finn's girlfriend is Rachel Berry. And by proxy, by the fact that they have to share the same space not only at school but now at home leads to a sibling dynamic between the two of them.

I don't know if I'll ever fully buy the gay bff angle they were trying to push in Season 3 -- because Kurt Hummel just will not stand for being someone's gay bff - but because also siblings seems more apt to their personalities.

So getting back to the thoughts above...

The thing about moving to a place you've never really been before and going to college on your own, you kind of latch onto the only familiarity you might have. And for Kurt it's Rachel. Rachel, in turn, doesn't need that sense of stability in the same way -- she's busy reinventing herself anyway. But while that change is happening at that time in your life, you do hold on to things you know before spreading out and latching onto the things that make more sense.

So in that way - I buy Kurt and Rachel sticking with each other -- the same way Santana coming into the dynamic works, even if it doesn't. The familiarity and past experiences is what binds them together.

As for the break ups... this is such an interesting thought.

I think, first of all, their break ups were very much different. Because those particular relationships were very much different. Beyond the fact that I think Finn and Rachel, while always being tied together in a way for being a connection in high school, were always destined to be on different paths, Rachel was the one who broke it off. She needed space to grow up and find herself and learn who she was without defining herself with Finn. It's why she pushes Kurt to go out and date and experience the world because she wants him to be where she is.

And Kurt isn't. Kurt, when it comes to relationships, very deep relationships -- with his dad and with Blaine, is very closed off. He always guards his heart very closely. And Blaine (like his dad) was supposed to be a constant he always relied on. It's kind of insane that Blaine did what he did because Kurt just figured that he would always just be there and fixed and that's it. (Kurt and Blaine's issues aside - that's a full different conversation.) And when Blaine wasn't there anymore, his world shattered a bit - and he went inward. It was much easier to let Rachel lead him through the world because he didn't want to deal with his. But I don't really think Kurt let her in to the subtleties and realities of how deeply he was hurt. He kept his feelings buried for himself.

But I don't really think that made them closer. Once Kurt starts to be okay with himself, and his relationship with Blaine, and his relationship with New York - he starts to pull away from Rachel and be his own person and they kind of start their journeys of going through life in different directions.

Finn's death, though, did give them a bond that is permanent. It goes back to what I was saying about Finn being Kurt's brother and Finn being Rachel's partner. They shared a valued connection with this person who is no longer there, and they have a different grief from others that they can share between them.

I think that long after Kurt (and Blaine) have moved out of the city proper and are busy with their own lives and long after Rachel Berry has been happily married to someone else, there will be moments and times when they look to each other to remember this person who once meant so much to them.

[im-gonna-squeet]

I still dont know who you are, I only know that I'm still lonely chap 2

Donnie has a bit of a late night breakdown, but all is well when they take care of their family, and theyre rewarded with twin cuddles (chap. 1) (chap. 3)

Donnie couldn't sleep.

They should be excited. But they just felt numb. It's not fair.

Just a few hours ago they were fine. They were so excited! Happy!

But now they can barely feel anything.

Whilst they struggled with identifying emotions, they still felt them, in fact they were a rather emotional person, so it was very noticable when they were gone. And they didn't know what to do.

This has happend throughout their entire life, but has become far more frequent since The Technodrome.

You would think that having an issue for your entire life would mean youre able to cope with that issue. Especially having a sibling as well-versed in psychology and emotions as Michael is. But apparently, that isn't how it works.

Having awful emotional permanence surely didnt help. It's very hard to keep a diary of your feelings when you forget about them immediately after you stop feeling them. Which makes it really hard to ask for help.

Emotions are exhausting and confusing, but Donnie thought they preferred having them to not.

The only time they didn't want to feel was after Shelldon... NOPE! No. He's back. Hes ok. Hes alive. No need to go back there ever again.

They decided to go and get a drink... and maybe check on Shelldon on the way. And their siblings. And Papa. But only because they couldn't sleep, and they were heading that way anyways.

They swung their legs over the side of their bed to get up, realising their mistake a moment too late.

"SHIT!" They exclaimed as they fell to the floor, legs unable to hold their full weight.

They covered their eyes with their palms as they let out a shaky breath.

Fuck.

Why do rhey keep forgetting about that.

They let out a quiet sob as tears started to wet their palms and the shock made their emotion flood back. Desperately trying to comfort themself, they pulled their knees to their chest, grabbing their plesiosaur plush from their bed and holding it close, burying their face into the well-loved stuffed animal.

Its not fair. Its not fucking fair. They just wsnted to be a normal-ish teenager. Sure, they can still technically do most of the things they used to be able to do. But it was diffrrent. Which meant that they were different. And they didnt like change.

They cant skateboard anymore, and they might never be able to again. They loved skateboarding.

Logically, they knew that with their enhanced healing, they would more likely recover than not, but it had been a fucking year and they'd made barely any progress.

And sure, their family were very accommodating and understanding, but they didn't get it. Not in the way Donnie needed them to.

It made them angry, and they hated themself for it. Because its not their fault.

They would never want anyone to see what they saw, to feel what they felt. But it just sucked sometimes. It was so isolating and lonely. They just wanted someone to understand. To really, truly know them. To listen to them and go 'yeah, i get it'.

But they never would.

Because if The Technodrome was to be beleived, and they see no reason why she would lie, nobody else had seen what she showed them. Or if they did, they didnt survive to tell their story.

But they all went through horrific trauma that night. Raph was literally mind controlled and Leo was trapped in the prison dimension with Prime for fuck's sake! There was no way they were talking about this and risking bringing back those memories, they wouldn't do that to them. No matter how painful and isolating it was.

They stayed there for a little longer, breathing deep, shaky breaths and listening to their own heartbeat.

Now they really needed a drink.

Thankfully, they had created a new, more comfortable battle shell for prolonged use. Though it wasnt really a battle shell more like a get-around-the-lair shell. They kept it next to their bed so they could put it on when they woke up.

After taking a second to put their glasses on, they put their battle shell on, securing it.

They released the spider arms and made their way to the door (after tucking in the plesiosaur plush, of course).

The kitchen light was on when they got there, which wasn't surprising as the others tended to forget to turn them off after getting snacks.

Donnies hands shook slightly as they took out a glass from the cupboard, then the cordial from thr cupboard below it. The shaking persisted as they made their drink and put the cordial away. Thry took a sip. Then another. Then downed the whole thing. They hadn't realised just how thirsty they were.

They left the glass in the sink, far too exhausted to wash it right now.

Since Papa's room was closest, they decided to check on hin first, then Raph, then Mikey, and then check on Leo & Shelly at the other end.

Their dad always left his door open at night so that he could hear his children and they could hear him. Donnie stuck their head through the door and listened out for a moment, some of the tightness in their chest dissipating as they heard him snore. They didn't feel the need to check any further and turned to their next destination.

As they approaced Raph's room, they could already hear her snoring, but decided to go in and check on her anyway. Walking further in, they saw that Raph had dropped a couple of her stuffed animals in her sleep, and took moment to put them back properly.

Pulling the blanket over her a little more, they gently stroked the side of her head with their thumb, snoothing out the creases in her brow. Once Raph had settled down and started to smile slightly, Donnie got up and made their way out of the room and towards Mikeys, feeling lighter than before.

Mikey was a very quiet sleeper, so Donnie couldn't hear anything outside of his room.

Making their way in, Donnie made sure to tidy Mikeys desk whilst still leaving everything out and in view so he didnt forget about anything.

Mikey was sound asleep in his bed, completely sprawled out with the blanket tied up in ways Donnie wasnt sure they could do if they tried. Nevertheless, they managed to free Mikey from the blanket without waking him – thank you extra arms – and lay it over him instead so he didn't get cold.

They stayed for a moment longer, just watching him breathe, until they felt secure enough to leave him alone. It was truly incredible how much calmer they felt now compared to when they first got up.

Donnie, Leo, and Shelldon all had rooms on the opposite side of the layer, with theirs on the end closest to their lab, and Shelldons between them and Leo.

Leos room was on that side because of twin reasons. As much as they loved to make fun of eachother and get in dumb fights, they really were part of eachother. If either one needed any sort of comfort or help, the other – no matter how angry they may be, will always be there for them. They understood eachother like nobody else. And they will do anything to keep it that way.

Gently pushing open the door to Leos room, they made their way over to his bed. Leaving the haphazardly stacked comic books just the way he likes them. From the looks of it, Leo had fallen asleep on his phone, so Donnie made sure to put it on charge, gently removing Leos mask and fixing his blanket. But Leo was a much lighter sleeper than everyone else, and opened his eyes, blinking a few times before letting out a scratchy "Tello?"

Shit.

"Yeah, its me, Lee, sorry for waking you Ill-"

They were cut off by Leo gently grabbing the sides of their face, his face scrunching up in concern, " 'v you been crying?"

They cringed. Ah. Right. They didnt wash their eyeliner off. God they probably looked like such a mess right now. "Yeah, im- im- im okay now though. Go back to sleep."

Leo grabbed their hand and pulled gently, clearly inviting them to join him.

"Sigh. Alright, fine, but I have to go check on Shelldon first, ill be right back. Promise." They gave Leo a kiss on the head and stood to leave after he nodded.

Well, they were spending the night in Leos room now, they supposed. They were grateful for it to be honest, they didnt really want to be on their own right now.

As they entered Shelldon's room and saw the droid charging, they felt the last (biggest) bit of their anxiety melt away and they were so releived they could cry.

They quickly made their way to his bedside, lowering themself to kneel next to him.

Then they did start crying. He was there. Their son. Their baby. Safe and comfortable and alive. They gently caressed his face and neck, careful not to wake him. Leaning over, Donnie gently kissed him on the top of his head. He's right there. And he's okay.

Donnie stayed there for a few minutes, just watching him. They wanted desperately to hold him. To take him in their arms and never let go. To make sure nothing can never harm him ever again. But they didnt want to wake him.

Soon enough, they felt almost all of their anxiety leaving them, so they left back to Leos room.

When they got back, Leo wasnt asleep, and was clearly trying very hard to stay that way.

Donnie sat down on the edge of his bed where Leo cleared the blankets for them. They took their battle shell off very carefully so they didnt hit Leo and placed it next to the bed. Then they took their glasses off and put them on the bedside table before moving themself to lie next to Leo, resting their head on his bicep and wrapping their arms around him. "G'night. Love you." Leo managed to get out before immediately passing out. "Night Leo, I love you too." Donnie replied, feeling warm and safe and secure for the first time that night before they joined their beloved twin in sleep.

reblogs > likes

[seamsterspell]

as a Levihan shipper (like me ), what do you think of eruri and its popularity in the west? and also why do you think levihan is better than eruri? ( yes i know i am bias .. i am so Levihan trash)

Hello hello!

Uh oh, I feel we are trotting into a dangerous zone here xD /j But okay, here goes nothing >:D

Just to be safe, I'm going to abbreviate Erwin & Levi as EL.

Well, first of all, I like almost every dynamic between characters in SNK. IMO Isayama did a great job of building connections in his story. So, I don't really have NOTP(s) in SNK. Even if I don't ship A, B, C, or D romantically, I can still appreciate the bonds between those characters.

Regarding EL, if you've read one of my fics, you would know that I like the veterans, especially the veteran trio (Erwin-Levi-Hange). I really enjoy the relationship between Erwin-Levi, Levi-Hange, and Erwin-Hange. To me, they are close comrades who have deep trust in each other.

At first, I was not so sure what to make up in the relationship between EL though. I found Erwin to be quite intense back then, so I didn't know how to read the dynamic between him and Levi. As a trainee, Erwin seems to be much more outspoken and passionate. But as an adult, Erwin becomes more reserved. Therefore, I used to think that this man must have been hiding something. Then, I finally understood it all when I read about Erwin's backstory (and apparently he was hiding his trauma and guilt, who would've thought!).

Anyway, in short, I like EL! I feel like their personalities complete each others and they have their fair share of both meaningful as well as comedic moments. What makes them interesting to me is that they are the kind of people that you would never thought would be friends, but well apparently they are. Some might argue that Erwin was only using Levi to reach his goal. But I disagree, even in a world where there are no titans around, I still believe they would become great friends who can rely on each other. So yeah, I can see the appeal of EL.

Hence, I can understand why they are so popular, both in Japan and the west (and internationally tbh). However, their popularity had never bothered me since I already knew that M/M ships tend to be much more popular in almost every fandom in existence. I mean I've shipped Levihan (and Aruani) since 2013 and oh boy we were like a small cheerleading club back then xD

To be quite honest, I don't think Levihan is better than EL. I mean sure, in my book they are the best HAHA but I tried to never really put any relationships in a hierarchy. To me, shipping characters are more about preferences anyway. Like, we tend to ship a pair with dynamics or tropes that we love.

I ship Levihan (and not other Levi's ships) because they embody many tropes & dynamics that I like, such as opposites attract (this feels like their trademark tbh). However, their main appeal to me is the way that their relationship feels so mature and healthy but also FUN. Despite their stark differences, they are able to trust and look after each other, not only in combat but also outside. You can see them fighting together in one chapter and then see them teasing each other in the next chapter.

I also like the fact that they don't always bound together. I like crumbs (and full meal) as much as next guy, but I actually appreciate that they have their own characters moments as well as relationships with other people. It highlights their personalities which make their dynamics—when they are together—much more interesting.

Not only that, before chapter 126, their relationship and moments were actually pretty subtle (the one where you kinda have to squint to see or blink-and-you-miss-it kinda thing). Which I LIKE SO VERY MUCH! I actually prefer subtle romantic-ish moments between characters over blatant romantic moments. I like ships with potential, ships that will give me enough (not too much and not too little) materials to daydream every day HAHA. I mean, out of all the ships that I like, Levihan is the ship that I have the most fanfic ideas. They are my go-to ship every time I need to distract myself lmao.

I feel like I want to say more but man, idk, I just like them I guess. I can't put my love for them into words T_T But to sum up my feelings about them: I WISH THEY WERE MY PARENTS

That's all anon! Thank you for the ask! I hope my answer makes sense to you xD

[miralines]

Before I say anything, I just want to inform you that I just randomly came across your post browsing the discourse tag for something else. I don't know who you are nor what's happening with ao3 users here. I don't know if you wanted a deep(ish)dive into someone's thoughts and reasons for choosing fics based on kudos and hits ratio, but 100% ignore if you didn't! Sorry if I am intruding by doing this!

I come from multiple giant fandoms and when there are multiple fic choices with tags and summaries that I like, I do choose to go by kudos and hits ratio. Just to pick which one to check out first. I did notice however, that in smaller fandoms or tags this couldn't be applied because there's not enough fics, so I just read what I'm interested in most.

Why? Kudos signify how enjoyed the fic is to me, because usually the more kudos it has the more talked about it is on other platforms. Why would that be important? It's just that I enjoy exploring content made by others after I'm up to date with a fic. It's really fun to see people talk, theorize, make art and speculate or scream over things that will or did happen. It's giving me an opportunity to find people with similar interests and see what they make overall!

Sometimes though, if fic in a fandom or a tag that's incredibly popular gets hundreds of hits and very few kudos, I choose not to read it. This is based on a few bad experiences I had giving those fics a chance, where something in them made me uncomfortable or hard to read. I don't have any very specific needs when I'm reading fics, I just enjoy reading as a part of enjoying the fandom, so when I see the general readers avoid giving kudos in fandoms where it's very usual to have a lot on fics, I don't want to read that fic for my enjoyment.

I really don't know much about this, I'm sorry! But yeah, I basically use kudos to hits ratio to oriantate myself and avoid something I wouldn't like based on previous correlations I made. I don't know if that's wrong or upsetting for others, but if you find it that way, I would like to know why too and improve! Sorry for any grammatical mistakes I made!

Oh hi anon! I wasn’t expecting anyone to reach out like this, but thank you for taking the time to write out your thoughts! (Also. Please do not feel the need to apologize for grammatical mistakes. I do not believe in ‘correct’ grammar; as long as I understood you, which I did, I think you’re absolutely fine and using language as it’s intended!) (I am. A particular kind of nerd and not policing grammar is something I have Opinions about hence this tangent lmao)

This got terribly long, so I’ve put a tldr above the cut and divided the rest under headers for ease of reading.

Tldr: I see your points with regard to differences between large and small fandoms, and with the specific goal of finding “sub-fandoms” for particular fics. I still disagree that kudos-to-hits ratio is the best way to decide what fics to read, both because it isn’t an accurate metric of engagement and because I dislike the idea of using engagement as the primary metric in the first place. When I use A03, I prefer to sort by what’s recent and use the tags and summary to decide what to read, or to use the (excellent) search function to find what I’m looking for specifically.

I’d also like to note to anyone else reading: I doubt this will be an issue, but if anyone is rude to anon I’m going to turn off reblogs on this post. I know this is something some people feel strongly about, and discussion is fine, but this is absolutely not worth being mean to another human about.

Size of fandom

To begin my more thorough response: This is an interesting perspective– not one I entirely agree with, but I can certainly see how in larger fandoms with a lot more content it would be valuable to be more selective. For context, my main fandom is an obscure storytelling band with under 3k total works on A03, and these days I mostly occupy a niche of that fandom (one specific album) with only 128 works. The largest fandom I’ve been active in currently has 37k works on A03.

I don’t know what your fandoms are, but as some examples of bigger fandoms, Star Trek currently has over 100k works, Supernatural has almost 300k, and Harry Potter has nearly 500k. That is a big difference! I’m currently working on a goal to read every fic in my 128-fic niche (with some exclusion criteria), but in larger fandoms it’s impossible not to be selective. This is all to say– I definitely agree with you that the size of a fandom impacts how a person can and does interact with it.

Fans of fics

Your point about wanting to interact with other fans of a particular fic also makes sense! There was a particular fic series in my largest fandom that had a pretty decent following, and I still have friends from that sub-fandom several years later. If this metric helps you find fics that match your goal of having that experience, I can see how the kudos-to-hits ratio could function as a potentially useful metric, though I still think its usefulness is a bit limited for reasons I’m about to go into.

Kudos-to-hits isn’t accurate

I have two reasons for thinking that kudos-to-hits ratio isn’t the best way to determine what to read. The first is purely numerical. If you’ve been watching this discourse, you’ve probably already seen people discussing how users can only leave a single kudos, but may be responsible for 20-plus hits on a work. This is especially applicable to multichapter works, which in my experience are the fics that are able to develop their own following. If you want to sort fics by engagement, it seems like at the very least, using comments for the ratio is a more accurate measurement.

Using engagement as a metric at all

Secondly, though, I (and I believe, a lot of people) dislike the notion of using engagement as a metric to measure fics in the first place. I think the current discourse is partially due to some regrettable phrasing on the part of the OP of the post I was vaguing– if I recall correctly, they said that they use this metric to determine if a fic is “worth reading”. I think this phrasing was hurtful to a lot of fic writers who may not have large followings or a lot of engagement, but who work very hard on their fics and feel frustrated that this person implied that they aren’t worth reading. I have fics that are personal favorites of mine, but that I haven’t gotten a lot of feedback on.

Of course, this is just part of writing, and it’s an important skill for any writer (of fic or anything else) to learn to handle rejection or just lack of feedback. But I also think that particular post was phrased in a thoughtless way that interacted poorly with pre-existing insecurities (this is part of why I suggested that post was bait– the phrasing seems to me like a perfect storm to make writers upset and defensive, but of course this could also be due to the OP just being a bit careless with their words, and not expecting to have hit quite nerve they did).

There’s an excellent post here on engagement on fics and what a realistic assessment of “successful” engagement metrics are based on professional standards (which includes a stat about how Harry Styles, one of the most popular and successful current celebrities, only gets a 1:30 ratio of likes to views on his social media. I don’t know what ratio you’re using, but iirc the post I was discussing suggested 1:10). Personally, though, I worry about both authors and readers depending too much on statistics, especially in a broader cultural context when it feels like everything is performed, measured, and monetized. Most social media platforms have gone from a place to share with friends to a place to compete for attention and make money and fame off it. There’s a lot of cultural anxiety around that at the moment, which is another reason I think this discussion has gotten so big.

Why I disagree with using engagement

I think this discussion, at its heart, is a debate about what fandom should be, and I feel focusing overmuch on engagement statistics contributes to a fandom culture uncomfortably close to the commercialization of everything else on the internet. I feel that fic should be enjoyed as art (whatever art means) and not as a product. I’m not saying you’re personally approaching fic that way, but unfortunately there does seem to be something of a broader trend towards that, which troubles me.

As a writer, I would hope that when people come across my fic, they give it a chance based on the metatext information I give them in the tags and summary, the quality of my writing, and whether my work matches what the reader is looking for. Judging it based on the numbers feels reductive to me, and makes me feel like nothing about the work or passion I put in matters; just the popularity. My fics aren’t going to be for everyone, and I understand that. If someone comes across my fic and decides they’re not interested, that’s their prerogative. But I hope that potential readers don’t discount my work just because it doesn’t meet a numerical standard that, in my opinion, is extremely arbitrary.

My suggestions for what to do instead

As a reader, I default to sorting by what’s been posted recently, and then using the tags and summary to decide what to read. That’s what those things are designed to be used for, and I think they’re much more informative than the stats. Worst-case scenario, I start reading and then go back to the search. All I’ve lost is a couple minutes.

In large fandoms, this might be an inefficient way to search for fic, and I recognize that. I’d encourage you to try using A03’s (fantastic) search function to find what you’re looking for– you can both include and exclude fandoms, characters, pairings, and tags. I have come across people who don’t realize that A03 has no algorithm, and haven’t realized they need to learn to use the search function. This is understandable, given the state of most of the internet and what these (often young) fans have learned to use before, but I think learning to search and filter is a vital skill to develop. I have no idea if you’re in this boat, anon, but if you are, please check out the search. It is, in my experience, the best way to find what you’re looking for on A03, and can at the very least supplement numbers-based selection.

Conclusion

I don’t think you have a moral responsibility to stop using engagement as a way to determine what you want to read. Frankly, this isn’t that important. I don’t think you even strictly need to stop using kudos as the measure instead of comments, though I think that would be more accurate if you do prefer to sort by engagement. But I do think you could be surprised at the hidden gems you could find if you didn’t limit yourself to only reading fics with high ratios. I don’t know the nature of your bad experiences in the past, and obviously how you use A03 is up to you. But I think there are better ways to decide what to read.

Thank you again for reaching out– you’ve helped me understand the other perspective as well! I really do appreciate your explanation. I hope I’ve been as respectful as you have, and that I’ve helped you understand where writers who share my opinion are coming from. If you’d like to continue talking about this or respond to any of my points, please feel free to shoot me another ask or a message. I hope you’re doing well and that you have a nice day!

[pompadorbz]

Here's a question for you, Do you think Mondo's story would have the same impact had Daiya survived the accident. Everything else would stay the same, backstory of the race, it's effects, the promise (though that one might have to change slightly), etc. Also Do you think that Mondo would have an harder or easier time going into carpentry as Daiya is alive and Mondo would have to tell him to his face over his decision to quit the gang?

SORRY FOR THE LATE REPLY! This ask is genuinely super interesting to me, so I wanted to really mull it over as best as I could and cover as much ground as possible. Since this is such a significant change to Mondo's entire character and his relationship with grief, it also means that there is a LOT of possible scenarios, and with that, a LOT of questions to ask. (Also I'm sure everyone who follows me knows the drill at this point, but for those who don't I use both he/him and she/her for mondo because of a headcanon I'm really super fond of. If I say she/her pronouns at any point, I'm still talking about Mondo. I'm also gonna elaborate on how this scenario would affect her gender moments at the end for fun, lol) For starters I want to speculate that this would be something that Mondo would probably wonder a lot himself. Daiya's death was so permanently life-altering that I'm sure he would probably get caught up in the "what-ifs" herself, along with literally every possibility that comes with that (I think this girl has the most SEVERE ocd ever, as well as ptsd which as I know it, is a much more common hc). In the scenario that this were to actually happen, there's a lot we can consider. I'm gonna go through this in list-ish form i think, since it'll make things a bit easier for me lol.

The first thing I think of when this alternate scenario comes to mind is how Mondo would eventually obtain leadership in the gang, or if she even would to begin with. Motorcycle accidents in reality have an INCREDIBLY high mortality rate. People that do survive usually end up paralyzed, or needing amputations, so I think it's pretty safe to say that Daiya wouldn't be coming back as the gang's leader after that. I think with Daiya still alive and Mondo keeping his same promise to him, it wouldn't have more or less pressure, but I think there would be this totally different KIND of pressure to keep the gang running.

Mondo's reason for having the race with Daiya was to prove that he could be a reliable leader to begin with, especially because of how the rest of the gang viewed her before she'd became the leader. That's why Daiya's death during the race is so much more traumatizing, at least thematically. In a really fucked up sense, Mondo technically gets what she wants. He gets to run the gang and really prove himself, but at an enormous cost. If Daiya manages to survive but ends up having his own life be permanently altered by the accident, it gives an ENTIRELY new read on this philosophy, except now, Daiya is alive for it.

A huge part of Mondo's character and her backstory is the fact that he ended up lying about how Daiya died, but now that he's alive, there's a pretty good chance that the gang would know the full truth, unless if Daiya himself decided to keep things between him and Mondo for her sake. Regardless of whichever happens, Daiya is alive to both know, and tell the truth, and I think this gives Mondo such a deep-rooted paranoia. I think she is already so hyper-aware of how people act around him and think of him, so knowing that they either know the complete truth, or that at the very least, Daiya does, and is able to tell them? THAT would make her anxiety skyrocket, although I doubt that Daiya would be one to want to omit that information (more for Mondo's sake later down the line than his own). Like in canon, Mondo's motivations to run the gang would likely still become INCREDIBLY Daiya-centric. Either way I think he feels like he owes an incredible debt to him, and will do anything to make sure she follows through. The gang would become so much more of a chore in both scenarios I think, but on the bright side, I think Daiya obviously still being alive would be able to give her SO much more reassurance that she wouldn't have gotten otherwise, at least not initially. Daiya to me is someone who seems very cool and levelheaded on the outside, but I think that the whole situation would make him feel a bit of guilt of his own despite being the victim of the crash. He manages to sniff out Mondo's anxiety from a mile away, and even if he forgave Mondo, I doubt it would ever disappear as much as it would become much less noticeable over time, as well as generally burdening Mondo less.

When it comes to leaving the gang to pursue carpentry, I believe it would end up being a lot easier for Mondo to pursue with Daiya still alive. I think that there's this understanding with everyone in the gang that eventually, every leader is going to shift out of that position at some point. With Daiya, him retiring and Mondo taking his place is just another inevitability, and so in his mind, Mondo wouldn't be giving up on her promise by eventually doing the same and passing the torch to Takemichi. Mondo was the leader for the amount of time that she saw fit, and now he's moving onto greener pastures. I think Daiya would be a heavy source of encouragement once he learns about Mondo's own ambitions, even if it would likely take Mondo a while to actually admit that he has them (for a while I'm sure it was something she kept secret because of the promise).

In the killing game itself, I think it could DEFINITELY change the course of the entire story. I think while losing his memories would make the grief feel a little more fresh, I don't think it would be NEAR the level of what it was with Daiya actually dying. Daiya still being alive would imply that he'd probably take Takemichi's place as a hit list target. Perhaps he'd see the both of them together in his motive video as well. As for chapter 2 itself, it would ABSOLUTELY change the story. I'd be hard pressed to say that Mondo's trauma is BETTER (It's not a competition here) , but I think that having Daiya alive, as well as his forgiveness would have a HUGE impact on how he views himself and his strength, as well as just being called strong in general. I think the feeling of inadequacy is absolutely still there, but I think in comparison to the canonical chapter 2, Mondo would be in a MUCH better place. Additionally, him not carrying the burden of his lie on his shoulders would make his chapter 2 motive much more easy to stomach. He may even have a completely different motive entirely, due to his gang already knowing the truth, therefore making the motive useless to Junko for the game. Either way, any situation that keeps Chihiro alive is absolutely going to change the course of the entire remainder of the story (seriously, if she was still alive by the end, the end would've come a lot sooner, and the entirety of sdr2's killing game wouldn't have even happened. Also this would likely keep Taka alive as well, and anything that keeps Taka alive is a nice bonus). AND NOW FOR THE ADDITIONAL GENDER MOMENTS. I think that both Daiya and Mondo are INCREDIBLY sheltered individuals. Like I don't think anything could shake me from that belief, and there's a fair amount pointing to this scattered about Mondo's dialogue. Daiya is equally as out of the know as Mondo likely would've been regarding half of the things she'd learn about herself. The only difference now is that he's gonna still be around while these realizations pop up. WHICH OF COURSE, puts Mondo through a brand new kind of dread, especially since him and Daiya were essentially raised in toxic masculinity city. It probably takes Mondo a while to crack that egg into the pan, so to speak.

I also think that the idea of Daiya being the token cishet is absolutely fucking hilarious. Like he is 100% an ally and down for anything, but he also knows NOTHING. Like for once in his life he's not able to give Mondo his wisdom because in his mind, Mondo's the expert on this stuff even though she literally JUST showed up to the party herself, lol.

Sorry for giving such a long response! I do hope it answered your question!!

[cringefaildiaz]

Don't get we wrong, I feel hopeful too, specially with the whole network change because it means the series has an actual shot of going back to the way it used to be. I feel like lately the emergencies don't have that spark anymore, so I'm looking forward to see what ABC does with them. Also, let's cross our fingers and think that they'll actually give a damn about promo and they'll use (at least in social media) what attracts more attention... I mean, if the answer is a couple of firefighters that are raising a child together, I wouldn't mind.

However, what makes me mad is that by the time they were working on the finale they weren't sure if they were going to come back or not. From what it looks like, all the characters will get a sort of happiesh?) ending just in case, because again, the ABC move back then was not a sure thing.

They did that with The Resident. Sure, at first it was supposed to be a season finale, but they still did an ending that could be interpreted as both options: season finale or series finale. Well, it was cancelled so at the end they at least got a chance to leave the characters in a good place.

That's what will happen with 911 this season, I believe, because after almost six years the show at least deserved a decent ending if for one reason or the other they were not coming back.

My point is, we know that it's not going to be an open ending, and that all the characters will be left in a good place. I know there are a lot of possibilities, but we are talking about miss Kristen Reidel, it wouldn't surprise me if Buck and Eddie end this season with Natalia and Marisol, representing a "traditional" conclusion for both characters.

It wasn't hard to leave them single, if she truly didn't want Buddie to happen, but she just had to bring two random characters for the last four episodes of the season, right? If I follow her previous patterns, what will happen is that for the general audience, Buck and Eddie will end in "heathy" relationships with Natalia and Marisol, but they will share a significant moment together that's up to interpretation for the internet. Classic queerbaiting behavior me thinks.

I'm aware that now we are far from losing the war, especially if we consider that ABC has a different target audience and that they actually tend to listen to them. So, Buddie truly has a chance of happening now.

At the end, what I'm trying to say is, I feel optimistic for the ABC move, but I'm also frustrated because if that had been the series ending, that woman would have given a poor conclusion to Buck and Eddie just because yolo?) There was no reason to have those two random characters with them.

Buddie has a second chance, but I hope and pray to the universe that ABC will realize what they have in their hands and even if *she stays, they will overule her bad takes, not only on Buddie, but for the show in general, that move was not a cheap one. If they really want for the series to last, changes need to be made.

It's also sad to think that if they had stayed at FOX or if they had cancelled the series, we never really had a chance to win, huh. Homophobia will always prevail, no matter what.

The thing with this, anon, is that mostly I think it's a really fair reading of what's been going on. I just read the information we have really differently.

I definitely agree with you that the emergencies have been meh for a while now, but to me that's just a symptom of being 6 seasons deep into a procedural; a new network might breathe a little more life into it, and I hope it does, but I've never watched a show through a network switch so I'm pretty 🤷🏻‍♀️ on how much it's gonna affect the actual content. Def hoping for more promo though.

I get what you're saying about all the character's getting a "happy-ish" ending because they didn't know about season renewal but....isn't that always how it is? Like, I don't personally see much of a difference between where it seems they're gonna leave off 6x18 than any of the other finales we've had.

And I get why a finale where one or both of the boys are in a relationship with a woman would be disappointing if we're reading it from a "they thought this might be the last episode they were ever making" angle (but I am BEGGING someone to show me what KR has said or done that makes y'all believe she hates buddie. Because I was watching casually through most of s5, I missed all that. And from the show itself, I don't get that impression at all. I am genuinely asking PLEASE i need context). But, while I've always been a buddie girlie, 6b is literally the first time I've ever thought they might actually do it. And I've been really confident since 6x13 and the interview about the couch being in play until the very last scene of the season (and still am) that the closing shot of this season is gonna be the three boys on the Diaz couch. It's just the only thing I see as a possible resolution. Not to say you can't read that as a "open for interpretation" fan service moment, but until I know exactly why people think KR is fundamentally opposed the idea of buddie together, I'm gonna be reading it the way the text tells me to.

Because while I've become a bit of a buddie truther in 6b, they're not in a place where getting together by the end of the season would make....any sense. A lot of people disagreed with me on that, but that's been my stance since like, early s6. Just cuz there was no development for them in the first half of the season at ALL, and we knew how jam packed 6b was gonna be with other plotlines with other characters. They've got a lot of growing to do before buddie canon would even be satisfying imo. I just really believe we might be on that track now.

And with that in mind, here's my perspective on the ending IF they were writing it thinking they might never write another episode again: Buck can and should end up alone at the end of the season. He should really concretely know what he's looking for, in the way he didn't when he dumped Taylor. Having Buck explore the opportunity to date someone who is fascinated by his experiences but not actually interested in him is a great way to do that, imo. Him walking away from that and realizing he needs to find someone who will, in Oliver's words, meet him where he's at. I really cannot see Natalia being relevant beyond the finale at all, and if I'm wrong, I'm gonna start seriously questioning the writers, because they've told us she's not it for him (like, even my friends who watch the show very casually were screaming "NOOOOO!!!" at the screen every time she was mentioned in 6x15).

Eddie's more complicated though. Let's say, hypothetically, they realized midway through shooting 6b that renewal wasn't likely with Fox, and they didn't know whether or not they'd be picked up by another network. Eddie's been on this little journey of self discovery about wanting a partner, and has accepted the fact that he's lonely. Ending the show with Eddie in his single status quo would be sad as hell for the GA! We have to remember, we are not the only ones watching this show, and the vast majority are not seeing buddie as romantic options for each other. That can change, I really hope it does change, I am optimistic that it WILL change; but it hasn't yet. If they were trying to wrap things up nicely, with everyone in a pretty good spot, I can see why shoving relatively-underutilized Eddie with a nice girl would be a good way to do that. Easy to undo if they got a s7, but also a lot easier to convince the GA of a love interest for Eddie being good for him, just because he's not as big of a deal to the show (which I hate. I love Eddie I want him to have the world. But Buck is the main character on this show, let's be real)

That's not to mention that this is all speculation; we don't have any idea what's gonna happen with these two women. I'm standing pretty firm in my belief that they won't end the season in relationships, but I could be wrong. And if I'm wrong about Eddie, I can see why they'd make that choice and I'm not even a little mad at it. If I'm wrong about Buck, and he ends up in a clearly doomed relationship with Natalia, I'm less cool with that, but I can see the opportunities for s7 and assume that they were working under the assumption that they'd get a renewal somewhere. If Buck ends up in a seemingly perfect and happy relationship with Natalia, my faith in the writers is gonna plummet, not because queerbaiting, but because they told us it was doomed in 6x15, and it would make it clear to me that the writers don't even know what kind of stories they want to tell on a micro, episode to episode level. But I really can't imagine that happening.

[unsafe-chikku]

I have sort of mixed feelings on the whole “brony” thing bc I was deep in the paint of all that (pre-egg-crack tho so a slightly different perspective) from 2012-2016 ish)

I think it’s extremely important to note I don’t like the term or the origins of it all now, and if I met someone today who still used the label I’d keep a close eye on them bc many who do are in the 4chan bigot crowd.

However, It is interesting to dissect my experience a bit with this weirdness though.

But even way back then when I’d get defensive of “fellow bronies” 😒 I had to always admit that many sucked ass.

Since it had origins in 4chan lots of ppl who were in it were just absolute bigots and the worst ppl you can meet. I knew that in 2012 and I know it even better now.

The high defensiveness of their masculinity bc of enjoyment of a little girl demographic show lead to a lot of the worst behavior I’ve ever seen in a fan space. I think this also explains the abnormal hyper sexuality they inserted into the space.

Sure, R34 is a thing and I honestly really don’t care what ppl are making/into as long as it’s tagged properly away from kids/ppl who don’t wanna see it. It’s usually drawings/fics/ect made by a guy with max ten to fifty followers, who give a shit. Pointing it out gives more attention to it and makes more of it appear in my experience.

But the sheer volumes made and extreme lack of self awareness or in some cases just irrational vitriol about properly tagging nsfw shit…well there’s a reason the sane members scrambled to do Safe Search Roundups once a month to eliminate as much fetish/nsfw content as they could from Google safe search.

My mixed part of the feelings is that me and many others involved in all that became leftists and realized we were queer.

Bc having an online community where the common theme is “I am not being a Man in the correct way and it makes me very cool” is atttactive to ppl who are either “men” (nope!) or ppl who secretly/unknowingly want to be men but not like the cishet assholes in their lives, or just ppl who felt weird about cishet gender and sexuality in general.

(if you asked 2013 me if I was trans, I would have 100% believed when I told u I was a cisgender girl if I even knew that term then. Likely not lol.)

And I had a lot of great experiences with ppl in the community too. It legitimately helped me get out of the culty evangelical mindset I had been born and brainwashed into.

I even had a group I met with irl in college and no one there was more weird than me as ppl going to a private conservative Christian school afaik.

(One guy went on to go somewhat viral for making a really convincing Rayman smash leak years ago lol.)

Anyways, I just wish it hadn’t been through something that started on 4chan and was called “brony” (inherently alienating and sexist bc the idea is to pull away from the feminine while also co-opting it) and had a lot of pure bastard folks at the Peak of it (late season 1 through season 3).

I don’t even mean the nsfw stuff (though again that was abnormally rampant) since that exists for everything- I mean just honest to god so many bronies were just fucking bigoted assholes who considered it their god given right to post untagged porn and say racist shit and be sexist as hell.

However imo “brony” really became a huge misnomer after the Princessification of Twilight. A huge chunk of the original 4chan weirdo crowd fucked off, and even more after Equestria Girls, and it kept bleeding after that as more sane, queer and chill fans became more active.

This allowed the sane, queer, and chill fans to thrive in a smaller community with less scrutiny on them from outside and fewer loud assholes flaming their flutterdash fics.

It really was just “mlp fans” by season 6 or 7 but the original name was stuck for a while after that sadly.

At this point, those remaining mostly recognized the show for what it was-a well made show about tiny horses made to sell plastic horses to kids, especially little girls, and engaged with it that way.

It was actually fairly fun especially by 2016. I lost interest in late 2017 but the fond memories I have are mostly that era.

I’m so glad that the brony label is dead and mlp is back in the hands of sane, chill, and queer creators and fans.

[decapitatesyousoftly]

I’m not going to lie when I say I'm a huge simp for this man, right here. Yes I know that he’s really problematic, but every slasher is problematic in there own way (besides Bubba sawyer, Jason Voorhees and Carrie white they’re amazing sweethearts)

Dating Otis driftwood would include:

//warning: nsfw-ish, minors DNI//

•Gore. And lots of it, he loves gore and he loves everything that comes with it, organs, bones, brains everywhere. so that kind of stuff grosses you out, you’re out of luck

•you’re going to have to deal with him being A necrophiliac, sorry, but Otis really loves them cold and lifeless.

•you’re going to have to deal with major PDA, so stuff such as, holding your hand, groping you, public sex (When the devil himself wants you, he's going to have you), or his favorite kissing you.

•walks during the midnight hours, after he is done with rituals, talking about stupid things that don't make sense to either of you, but hey nights like these are fun for Otis and you and it definitely makes up for that peace and quiet you to seem to miss out on so often. Thanks to Spaulding, or grandpa Hugo (Most of the noise is caused by Otis, but don’t tell him that)

•Being best friends with Baby which is amazing, Baby is one of those crazy loyal best friends, definitely will steal you from Otis most of the time, because she wants more ’girl time’

•being Otis’s muse, and giving him ideas for his next art piece. Him asking you what he could do to make his work better, etc

• Cutter aka Captain Spaulding is definitely going to be protective of you like he is with Baby and Otis, why?, because your Otis’s S/O and part of the family. the problem with Spaulding being like a protective father figure to you, is that it’s not really that pleasant sometimes, like he’ll definitely watch out of you and have your back, but the moment he helps you out of the situation your in he’ll laugh at you, or tell you how stupid you were. Baby says that's how he shows he cares

• prepare getting degraded a lot, and when i say a lot, I mean A LOT. this man loves degrading people, and just because you’re his S/O doesn’t make you any different. In or out of the bedroom he’s going to call you names ”slut” is his favorite. This doesn’t mean Otis won’t praise you, he will trust me, its just When he’s more in a calm mood. He just likes to see you blush.

•He has a really high text Drive, so if those corpses don't satisfy him. It’s your turn, but in case you’re a masochist, it won’t really feel nice, but he’ll make it up to you with craze in aftercare.

•Be prepared to never talk to any man again, besides the ones that are in the firefly family, this man is definitely obsessive and possessive, hardly lets you leave the house, or even out if his sight. Deep down he’s just really insecure because no one’s ever liked him like you do, especially if you can put up with all the sick, twisted and disgusting things he does and still smile at him with heart eyes. Definitely doesn’t want to share you.

• if a poor victim of the firefly family insult you in anyway, Otis is definitely going to torture them and make it as painful as he possibly can and he’s going to make you watch, because he’s into that kind of thing. He’ll also fuck you next to the victims corpse, but that just Otis being Otis.

• On the contrary of what people think of him, I think he wouldn’t care about what gender his S/O is, or the way they dress, he just wants someone to love him. I also think Otis would be into an S/O who dresses all cute. He likes the idea of him, this gross man loving on someone who’s adorable and loving, but also gross.

I know this is bad, but I really was trying to think for this one, I haven’t been on here in awhile, I needed someway to get The creative juices flowing. Anyways hope you liked his I really tried to keep this as close as i can for canon Otis, even though I know this isn't close to canon.

[seijorhi]

Inexorable ♕

My birthday present for my beloved wife @iwaasfairy​ and my contribution to her birthday bash collab you can find here. I love you, you’re incredible and I hope you like this i even wrote smut for you smh

Iwaizumi Hajime x female reader

tw: dub-con, stalking, unhealthy relationships, very questionable decision making, smut, nsfw, um... implied murder?

He’s sitting on the steps outside your apartment when you get home from work, a lit cigarette dangling between long fingers. He brings it to his lips, the bright cherry red tip glowing as he takes a nice, slow drag and you scurry on past.

Not a word passes between the two of you, but olive eyes follow you up the stairs regardless, just like always. His name is Iwaizumi – Iwa – but you only know that because you’ve heard his friends yelling it down the hallway. In the three months since you’ve moved in, you haven’t so much as introduced yourself to the guy, but like most strangers crammed into the same shitty place there’s some kind of a routine between the two of you.

Why he religiously chooses this time of night to take his smoke break is beyond you, but like clockwork you’ll arrive home, having walked back from the bus stop and Iwaizumi’ll be there waiting for you, cigarette in hand.

Well, not waiting, just… there. Black leather jacket with a hoodie underneath, there’s a cut above his eyebrow tonight that he hasn’t bothered to clean, a purpling bruise colouring his jaw. Whatever dealings Iwaizumi’s tangled up in, you don’t like to think about too much, but you know it can’t be anything good. His friends dress like him, all have the same ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibe. You’ve seen their scrapes and bruises too – the weapons that stick out from the waistband of their pants – though you’re always quick to avert your eyes when they catch you staring.

You’ve heard them snickering about it when you hastily dart past, all but slamming your front door shut. 

And it’s not that you’re scared of him. There are people who play at being dangerous, and ones who are. Iwaizumi doesn’t strike you as somebody who enjoys playing, and while you don’t doubt for a second that he is dangerous, he isn’t to you. He wouldn’t go out of his way to hurt or scare you – you’re not even a blip on his radar – but what Iwaizumi is, at least as far as you’re concerned, the reason your step quickens and you can’t bear to meet his eyes, is intimidating.

Tall and broad shouldered, with those piercing green eyes. You’ve only seen him smile once, though it was more a quirking of his lips than anything else – usually he just stares, his expression halfway between impassive boredom and a scowl. 

No, Iwaizumi doesn’t scare you nearly as much as the bouquet of flowers you find sitting on your doorstep, a handwritten note tucked in between the roses.

—

The calls come next. You block one number and he rings from another, followed by endless texts. Cute little messages you suppose are meant to brighten up your day. 

Hi baby, love the skirt you’re wearing today. You know blue’s my favourite on you, always look so damn pretty. It’s like you’re trying to drive me crazy haha

Morning babe, I was thinking about you last night. You remember that trip we always said we were gonna take in the summer down to the lake? I can’t wait to bring you there.

Why won’t you answer my calls? I just wanna talk to you, hear your voice again. Let me make things right. I love you.

Don’t you miss me? I miss you. So, so much… You look beautiful today, by the way.

Baby, I love you, but you really shouldn’t be staying out so late with your coworkers for drinks. I just want you to be safe.

They’re not all soft and sweet though. Sometimes he just sends you pictures, and those creep you out most of all.

You change your number, and it doesn’t make a difference.

—

It’s hard for you to try and convince yourself that you’re imagining the prickling sensation on the back of your neck as you go about your day. You know he’s watching you – the messages and the voicemails just drive that home, but what else are you supposed to do?

You can’t just pack up and run again, and what good is a restraining order when you have no proof he’s violating it – and by the time you do, it probably won’t help you.

Kazuma’s always had patience, but only up to a point.

The final nail comes the day you arrive home to find one of Iwa’s friends heading out from his apartment – the tallest, with the curly dark hair. Barely spares you a glance until he seems to think better of it.

“Didn’t realise you had a boyfriend, sweetheart.”

He says it so casually, but the words make you falter, a sinking feeling in your stomach. “What do you mean?”

And for a moment, he looks half surprised that you’ve bothered to reply – so far you’ve done nothing but pretend to ignore him and Iwa and every last one of their friends. But the mirth slips from his expression quickly enough once he gets a good look at yours, “Blonde guy with a shitty dye job, tall-ish. Saw him leaving your apartment an hour ago.” 

But to walk out of your apartment, he had to have first gotten into it.

“Guessing he wasn’t your boyfriend then,” he says, eyeing you with an odd look. But you don’t respond and after a short pause, he simply shrugs and continues on his way. 

You couldn’t care less.

Kazuma was in your apartment.

Leaving flowers at your doorstep is one thing, but now he has a key. 

And it feels like there’s somebody else moving your body as you stumble towards your apartment, your hand shaking so badly that you fumble and drop your own keys twice before you finally manage to slide them home and push your way inside.

It’s waiting for you inside your bedroom, sitting atop your pillow; a pretty blue box wrapped with white ribbon.

Your phone flashes to life a minute later; an incoming message from an unknown number. 

Did you like your present, baby?? I hope you don’t mind, I kinda borrowed a little something too… 

With your heart in your throat you watch those three bouncing dots as the image comes through. 

A pair of red lace panties – yours – scrunched up in his fist, wrapped around his–

Your stomach heaves, and you barely make it to the bathroom in time before you’re hurling your guts up.

—

You’ve always had an impulsive side, and more often than not it’s landed you into trouble.

So you force yourself to calm down and think before you do anything rash. You head to the police station the very next morning to file a report, fresh off a sleepless night. The officer seems sympathetic, but you know before she even opens her mouth that there’s nothing they can do.

There’s no proof of a crime committed; nothing was taken (nothing you can prove, at any rate) and because your door wasn’t tampered with and the windows weren’t smashed, there’s no evidence of a break in. She suggests changing your locks and going to stay with some friends or family for a few days and you don’t know whether you want to laugh or burst into tears.

And instead of going back to work, you call in sick.

Iwaizumi isn’t sitting on the front steps when you get back home, and why would he be? You’re not supposed to be home for another few hours – so instead you head to his apartment door and mustering every last ounce of courage you possess, you raise your fist and knock.

Silence greets you. 

You wait for a moment, a heartbeat, not daring to breathe, but there’s no answer. Which, really, shouldn’t be that surprising considering it’s mid-morning on a Tuesday, but you can’t help the crushing sense of disappointment that washes over you. The thought of trudging back to your apartment to sit and stew alone for the next few hours while you wait for him to come back makes your skin crawl. You can’t just sit still and twiddle your thumbs, not when–

Abruptly, the door in front of you swings open, and you find yourself face to face with a glaring Iwaizumi. His expression falters, momentary surprise flickering across his eyes at the sight of you standing in his doorway.

This time you don’t avert your eyes. Your heart’s pounding, your hands clammy and trembling by your side, but this is the only choice you have left. And so as a single eyebrow cocks and Iwa falls into a lean against the doorframe – the only invitation you’re gonna get – you steel your nerves, take a deep breath, and speak.

“I-I need a gun.”

To his credit, Iwaizumi doesn’t snort. “You planning on shooting somebody, princess?”

They’re the first words he’s ever spoken to you, and they make your cheeks burn, your stomach twisting into a knot. It’s not a dismissal, but there’s a tinge of amusement colouring his tone and you can’t help but wilt a little under the weight of his gaze. 

Better sense would tell you to turn around, walk back to your apartment and curse your own idiocy for entertaining this stupid idea to begin with But Iwaizumi’s staring at you like he’s expecting an answer and all you can think about is the fear that gripped your heart last night, how you couldn’t bear to turn the light off, half terrified that at any moment Kazuma would come back – and this time he wouldn’t be satisfied with just some panties.

You can’t live like this, and you can’t just pack up your life and wait for the same thing to happen in the next place, and the one after that. Kazuma won’t stop, you know that. 

“I…” you chew on your bottom lip, dropping your gaze so that you’re staring at his chest instead of those piercing green eyes. “I don’t, I-I’m not–”

“A killer?” he interjects, and you almost flinch at his bluntness“Yeah, no shit.”

Taking another breath in through your nose, you force yourself to meet his gaze, even as your nails bite into the palm of your hand and your heart skips a beat. “I just want…” but you can’t even bear to say the words aloud, not without your voice shaking like a leaf. “It’s for protection. I don’t know who else to go to. Please,” you beg.

Iwa exhales heavily, a crinkle appearing between his brows as he frowns, “This got anything to do with the blonde asshole that’s been sniffing ‘round your place?”

Your bewilderment must show, because he snorts, finally stepping back to let you inside. “Mattsun told me,” he says, answering your unspoken question. 

The unmistakably hard edge to his words takes you a little by surprise, but you nod anyway, gingerly taking a seat on the couch when he jerks his chin at it. “Oh, uh, yeah. He’s my ex, kinda. We… didn’t end well.”

It’s the understatement of the century, but you somehow doubt a man like Iwaizumi gives two shits about your past relationship with a stalker. Your fingers play with the hem of your skirt as the imposing man settles down beside you. “So does this mean you’ll get me a gun?” you ask. “I can pay you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I have some money–”

Iwa scoffs, cutting you off. “If you think I’m letting you anywhere near a loaded gun, pretty girl, you’re dumber than I gave you credit for.”

You reel back as if he’s slapped you. But Iwaizumi’s staring at you with that steely expression and blood rushes to your cheeks. Why are you surprised? Did you actually think he was going to help you – a veritable stranger – just because you have some sob story? Why even bother letting you in if he was just gonna make you feel like an idiot? And for a moment you forget the gnawing terror that’s kept you up all night, letting yourself become awash with indignation. You have no control over the hurt noise that leaves your throat, but the ‘Fuck you’ that follows; that one’s intentional.

You don’t have time to regret the insult as you jump to your feet; his hand shoots out to wrap around your wrist, jerking you to a halt the moment you try it. 

“I didn’t say you could go,” he tells you, and you can’t fight the shiver that rolls down your spine at the unmistakably commanding tone. “Sit.”

Wordlessly, you comply.

“Look at me.”

Again, there’s that harsh undercurrent in his voice that tells you he’s not asking, and you lift your gaze with a tense swallow. Iwa still hasn’t released your wrist, the warmth of his calloused palm searing against your skin. 

He doesn’t speak for a moment, olive eyes studying your face intently as you force yourself to sit still under the appraisal. “I said that I wasn’t going to give you a gun, not that I wasn’t going to help.”

Your eyebrows draw together in confusion, “What–”

“I’ll take care of it,” he snaps, cutting you off once again. And as you inhale sharply, you realise that it’s not anger you see burning in those pretty eyes, but sheer, unrelenting fury, an icy rage that you don’t understand, that terrifies you as much as it enthrals.

Because you feel like it’s on purpose. Like he’s finally letting you get a glimpse of what silently seethes beneath that impassive mask of his. Are you scared now, sweetheart?

“H-how much?” you ask breathlessly, eyes wide and heart pounding. 

“I don’t want your money,” he says quietly, his voice low and husky. And just in case there was any confusion as to what he does want, his other hand comes up to your face, a broad thumb tracing along your bottom lip as he cups your cheek.

Iwaizumi leans in slowly, as if he’s giving you time to shove him away and tell him that you’re not that kind of girl. Part of you – the part that’s terrified, frozen stiff and regretting the very moment you decided to step into his apartment and cross that line – wants to. Even now, as those hooded olive eyes drink you in, his warm breath ghosting across your skin leaving goosebumps in its wake, you’re afraid that it’s too late for that. You’ve opened a door that should never have been opened and there’s been a fundamental shift between you and him. There’s no going back for either one of you.

And the other part of you revels in it.

“Don’t kill him,” you murmur the second before his lips meet yours. “Not unless you have to.” You don’t even know if he heard you, and as Iwa deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours you find that you don’t care. You lose yourself to Iwaizumi as he leans closer, gently pushing you to lie back on the couch.

He isn’t satisfied with just your lips for long, planting hot, open mouthed kisses along your jaw and down the column of your throat, sucking on the sensitive flesh. His teeth nip at your collarbone as he busies himself unbuttoning your shirt, but your gasp sounds more like a needy whine than a plea for him to stop. 

He laughs a little at that, his chest rumbling against your stomach, but he makes no moves to slow down. Instead he turns his attention to your bra, his hands far less gentle with the delicate lace than he was with your shirt, and then his mouth is on your tits, licking, sucking, biting. Tomorrow, your skin will be littered with pretty red and purple marks, and judging from the single minded focus glinting in his eyes as he stares up at you, that’s exactly his intention. Iwa drags the flat of his tongue along the swell of your breast, circling it around your nipple before he sucks it into the wet warmth of his mouth, and the whimpering moan you give him in response is a thing of beauty. 

“Good girl,” he croons. “Such pretty, perfect tits.”

Your back arches when he cups the other in his hand, and you cry out when he roughly tugs the sensitive bud. He waits until the sting fades and you relax, sagging back against the cushions with relief before he does it again, harder this time. The sharp, searing pain ripples through you, your breath seizing in your chest as you try in vain to writhe away from his touch, but it’s followed by a flood of pleasure so strong it almost makes you dizzy. The fleeting kiss Iwa bestows on the supple flesh a moment later could almost be taken as an apology – if not from the satisfied smirk curling at his lips. He has no desire to be gentle with you, not today or any other day. That’s not who he is. 

Large hands ease down your side, reaching for the hem of your skirt. Iwa doesn’t bother trying to pull it off of you, merely flips it up, exposing your soft thighs and the delicate panties lying underneath. 

In an attempt to be helpful, you lift your hips to allow him to drag the lacy scrap of fabric down your legs and discard it, but Iwaizumi seems perfectly content with leaving them where they are. Even so, it takes you by surprise when his mouth descends on your cunt, the wet, pink muscle laving along the seat of your panties. You shiver in response, one hand instinctively reaching out to tangle in those spiky brunette locks, but if you’re about to tell him to stop teasing, the words are robbed from you when Iwa pushes the fabric aside and buries his face in the heat of your pussy.

His nose nudges at your clit and you jerk at the first lap at your folds, already shamefully wet for him. There’s no rhythm or rhyme to the way he eats you out, letting a long, thick finger slide into your cunt while he suckles and licks at your clit, but you can’t deny that it’s working. Your thighs tremble and quake beneath his hands, every second of his attention dragging you closer to unravelling entirely. And you’re awash with pleas, little whimpers and moans as he chuckles, the low vibrations making your fingers tighten in his hair as another burst of pleasure flutters through you. Your hips rise and fall against his face, desperate for more when he finally slides his tongue inside of your heat, eager to taste your cunt properly. You want more, you’re desperate and aching for it; but Iwaizumi’s grip tighten bruisingly against your thigh in warning. 

You’re at his mercy, and he’s in absolutely no hurry.

The first time you cum, it takes you by surprise. It feels like an endless build-up, Iwa’s tongue lapping at your pussy like it’s heaven sent, his mouth working diligently to drive you insane. Every touch feels unbearably good, from the long, slow strokes to the way he drags the tip of his tongue along your clit. Your toes are curling, your tits heaving with the desperate breaths you choke down, and all of a sudden his mouth latches onto your clitoris and he sucks hard at the swollen nub. You almost black out right there and then, stars bursting behind closed lids as pleasure wreaks havoc over your body. But as good as that feels, it’s not until you open your eyes and catch sight of the hunger blazing in Iwaizumi’s eyes that you tip over the edge, cumming into his waiting mouth with an earth shattering moan. 

At some point he must have let you go to rid himself of his own clothes, and your panties, but you’re boneless, basking in the afterglow as he shifts you once more, lifting one of your thighs up to hook your leg over his shoulder as he settles back onto the couch.

You just watch through hazy eyes as Iwaizumi gives his thick cock, already hard and flushed an angry red, a few cursory pumps. And his eyes are fixed on yours as he leans down, guiding the tip to your sopping cunt. 

“Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of this, princess,” he grunts out. 

Warning bells sound in your head once more, your gut clenching uneasily, but any protests you might have voiced fall by the wayside as he slowly presses into you. It’s the girth, more than anything else, that takes you by surprise. It hurts, stretching out your poor, oversensitive cunt as his cock fills you up, inch by agonising inch. 

Iwa hisses from between clenched teeth and your eyes squeeze shut, trying to breathe through the pain. It won’t last long, you know that, and until it does you just have to grin and bear it.

You can feel it twitching inside of you, every ridge and vein, the way your slick walls hug his cock. His thumb strokes along your hip, soothing you as your face screws up and another whimper slips out. You think you hear him say something, praise maybe, or encouragement, but all you can focus on is the way his cock throbs inside your pussy when he finally bottoms out and stills.

And for a moment, he doesn’t move. A small kindness, letting you become adjusted to his size before he fucks you the way he’s dying to. 

“Look at me,” he says, and while his tone isn’t as sharp this time, it’s no less of an order.

Your eyes flutter open as Iwaizumi turns his head just a fraction without breaking eye contact, pressing a soft kiss against your calf. His eyes are glazed with feverish lust, pupils blown wide, almost swallowing up that thin ring of olive green entirely, and you wonder whether you should feel afraid right now.

You don’t have the words to describe it, the distant unease that seeps through you as you stare into the eyes of a man who’s clearly not in control anymore. If you screamed right now, tried to fight back or stop him, would it make a difference? 

Do you actually want to?

“You’re mine,” he growls out, drawing his hips back and slamming them forward ruthlessly as you choke on a scream. 

He’s relentless, hissing out curses as he fucks you like a rag doll, filling your wet, tight little cunt again and again and again. It’s all you can do to fist at the edge of the cushion, one hand wrapping around his back, your nails raking down his skin, drawing blood in their wake.

And Iwa doesn’t care, tossing his head back as he pounds his cock into your needy cunt, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. “Iwa,” you plead between gasping breaths, clinging to his broad frame. You don’t even know what you’re begging for, not as he grabs you by the hips and lifts you up, hauling you closer so he can fuck you deeper. And you can feel his cockhead rutting against your cervix with every vicious thrust, the painful stretch of your cunt as you’re forced to take his fat cock. It hurts, it does, but holy fuck you can’t focus on that when his fingers slip between your legs and he starts to rub at your puffy, oversensitive clit.

You’re whining, mewling, hips shifting as you rock against him, desperate for more friction. “Please, Iwa,” you moan.

The sound of it, the lewd slaps of skin against skin, the wet squelching as he drives his cock home again with an unforgiving pace would be enough to make you burn with embarrassment, but you don’t care because you’re quickly losing yourself to mindless pleasure. Every stroke fills you completely, it’s hot and thick and the drag of his cock against your plush walls, the way it kisses that sweet perfect spot with every thrust is driving you to insanity.

“Fuck!” you cry, clenching tightly around his length as you hurtle over the edge for a second time. You’re gushing, convulsing, back arched up off the couch, lips parted and–

Iwaizumi stops with a growl and you barely have time to process it before he’s flipping you onto your front, yanking your ass up into the air and hammering his cock back into your swollen, abused little pussy. It’s a bruising pace he sets as he chases after his own end, your name falling from his lips in harsh, breathless grunts. 

It doesn’t take long for his thrusts to become sloppy, your cunt sucking him in and pulsing around his cock. And you don’t have the mental capacity to beg him to pull out, not as his muscular chest collapses against your back, his arms wrapping around your waist and he pumps you full of his seed.

Neither one of you move straight away, both fighting to catch your breath and calm down in the afterglow of your orgasms. Your eyes flutter shut as he presses soft, sweet kisses to the back of your neck, your shoulders, anywhere he can reach. It’s an intimacy that doesn’t belong here, but you find yourself arching into it, a small, tired smile curling at your lips as Iwaizumi lavishes you with affection. 

And you can only whine softly when he finally pulls his cock out and stands, lifting your boneless form up into his arms, chuckling quietly when you bury your head into his chest. Your head’s empty, your thoughts a jumbled mess as he carries you into his bedroom, depositing you carefully onto the bed. 

Iwaizumi leaves you there like that, and when he returns a few minutes later he’s dressed again. He doesn’t smile, but there’s something oddly content about his expression as he stops by the doorway and takes in the sight of you; naked and thoroughly fucked out, curled up amongst his covers. 

“Iwa?” you ask sleepily, stretching your aching body to make yourself more comfortable as you nestle further into the soft mattress.

He doesn’t answer you as he strides in, but you watch through half lidded eyes as his expression hardens. Stopping by the bedside, Iwaizumi reaches for you. You think he’s going to cup your cheek again, maybe run his fingers through your hair, but instead his hand slides between your thighs, gathering up some of the cum that’s seeped from your pussy with his fingers and slowly pushing it back inside of you, humming when you whine and shift under him.

“I’m leaving for a bit,” he tells you, your gut clenching as you remember why you’re in this position in the first place. “You don’t leave this apartment until I get back. You don’t answer the door, you don’t tell anyone you’re here, you don’t leave this bed unless you have a goddamn good reason. Understand?”

Weakly, you nod.

“Such a good girl for me,” he breathes, and this time when he leans over he does kiss you, sweeping your hair back from your face before his warm lips meet your cheek. He lingers there for a beat longer than necessary before pulling away with a sigh.

And as the door swings shut, the sound of the lock clicking into place behind him, you begin to question whether you’ve made a mistake. You don’t doubt for a second that Iwa will follow through with his promise. Whether it’s tonight or tomorrow or a week from now, he’ll find Kazuma; him and his friends, and they’ll make sure he stays away. And until they do, you won’t leave this apartment.

There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach that despite your pleas, Iwaizumi’ll kill him. 

Not because that’s the only way for this to end, though you realise that that’s always been a possibility, but because of what you glimpsed in his eyes today. Stupidly, you’d thought you had Iwa pegged. But there’s something that lurks beneath that facade, something more dangerous than you could’ve possibly imagined and the moment you opened the door to Iwaizumi it sunk its teeth into you and now you’re not sure if it’ll ever let you go.

And as you lie back in Iwaizumi’s bed, covered in the marks he left behind you wonder whether you’ve merely traded one monster for another. Perhaps it was inevitable. Inexorable.

[beann-e]

Bnha Characters reacting to when you quit your job

bakugou

your steps were quiet as you tried to work up the energy to unlock your front door. Your hands sweating and cold when you finally got the energy to put the key in the lock a deep exhale leaving your lips when you finally walked in.

Your Body only carrying you to your kitchen counter before you dropped your keys and bag on the same counter your body now rested against.

The room heating up and shifting from the ice quiet atmosphere youd created when you felt strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you back to meet a hard chest

Small kisses being planted on the side of your neck as you let out another sigh of relief as you spoke trying not to drown in the comfort being given to you “ baby “

Your body shook as you heard a deep grunt of acknowledgment “ we — we need to talk “

you felt as another set of kisses were placed to your neck before his head snuggled into the spot between your neck and shoulder “ I— I think I made a mistake“

You bit at your lip as you kept going “ I— I was trying my best to stick up for myself y’know like you told me”

“ mm—and did you“

“ I did —I mean I did stick up for myself and I had to I needed to bu—”

“ slowly losing interest y/n “

you let out a shallow cough “ but I think I did it at the wrong time “

his body stood up a bit straighter head still remaining in the same place somehow “ baby I —i lost my job “

You felt as your boyfriends body went hard almost as if he was trying not to slam your own body into the floor in anger his grip around your waist only getting tighter “ like I said I — I wrong time“

“ wrong time? — y/n wrong place “ he screamed as he jolted your soul out of your already shaken figure. His head flying back to look at you conveying all the anger and annoyance he held, “ what the fuck do we do now “

you let out a small laugh to try to ease the tension “ we — we rely on your hero check ? “

You watched as he sucked his teeth and moved out of the kitchen “ I can barely feed a fucking roach with my salary y/n “ his voice getting louder as he walked into the living room you following closely behind “ i — i can barely feed you — us — y/n this is why we don’t have little crumb snatchers running around now “

his voice deep and heavy “ cause we’re broke do you get that babe ? huh no — fuck — you— fuck fuck fuck you gotta go back — you can’t just be chilling around the fucking house while i’m working my ass off that’s not how starting a family works y/n “

“ baby it’s just until I can get a new job “

“ tch— and how long will that take y/n “

“ well I— “

“ huh months ? “

“ well n— “

“ couple weeks “

“ I mean hopefull— “

“ babe you don’t even fucking know “ he sighed as he griped the skin on the bridge of his nose “ so fucking stupid — so so so fucking stupid “

the room went quiet as your eyes dropped to the ground. “ wel— no — I — I don’t know kats” you shook your head “ I— I really don’t“

“ and that’s the problem y/n “ he screamed eyes finally opening to look at you.

God, he loved you but seriously you just didn’t think sometimes

It’s not that he was calling you stupid it’s just that he really really loved you

He loved that you listened to him. That whenever he gave advice you heard it and went with it.

The night he told you to speak up he was honestly just fucking with you. He always forgets that he has someone who loves him now meaning he’s taken seriously. He always forgets he’s not in high school anymore.

He can’t say something crazy and asshole—ish and expect to just be ignored. He has someone that loves him and will truly listen.

Your not the stupid one

nor the one in the wrong he is

and he knows he is because he heard everything you said about your situation. Yet, he knew you were different from him whereas he had been speaking his mind for years regardless of ranks.

You couldn’t.

You had a job where everything relied on ranks and status. You couldn’t just say whatever the fuck you wanted to like he could and yet he convinced you that night to speak up whenever your boss gave you extra work you didn’t wanna do.

His eyes felt heavy and so did his body his brain automatically beating himself up as he stared at you imagining the rough day youd had. If he was pissed off with the current situation he could only imagine how you felt.

Someone who hated to rely on others yet, now having to rely on their boyfriend.

“ come here “ your eyes lit up at the statement as your tired body wobbled over and into bakugous arms. Head hitting his chest as he crushed you “ I love you and i’m proud of you “

your heart sank.

“ fuck those idiots you only have room for one anyways and hes— fuck trust me I know i’m enough “

Shoto

“ so “

“ so “

You sat on the couch legs splayed out in front of you and hands playing with the tassels of the pillows placed next to you.

God you loved these pillows. You actually remember the day you bought them.

Y’know back when you had money

“ y/n “ you watched as shoto shifted uncomfortably on the couch next to you “ my love what are you doing home “

He shook his head confused at the body placed comfortably next to his own “ your not supposed to be home for “ he looked down at his watch moving his suit jacket up his arm to create space and to make sure he was seeing the time correctly “ for 7 more hours “

you let out a short laugh “ you sound like you just got caught cheating sho “

his eyebrows crinkled together as he stared at you in disgust “ y/n I would never “

His hand moved to be placed on your thigh “my love is that what you think ? — if that’s why your here then I can assure you tha—I mean honestly if so I would never be stupid enough to disrespect you in our home— you could’ve went to my office at least I mea— “

“ I lost my job shoto “

The air shifted as the hand on your thigh suddenly felt colder than before “ I— I lost my job “

you took a deep breath shaking your head “ it’s a long story on why but i’ve been leaving the house — pretending really— to go to work “

You chuckled “ god i’m sucha bad person “ your small chuckle turned into a hearty laugh as you felt your body go slack “ A fucking horrible timekeeper too if I managed to forget my husband gets off before me on weekends “

“ do not say these things about yourself “

“ it’s not like it’s a lie “ your tear filled eyes coming up to look at his. ” right “

“ I will not stand for this y/n “

“ for what — having an unemployed s/o—i mean you already have one so not much to do about that “

you scoffed “ why don’t you want a housewife ? huh“ you smiled “ I can wear the skirts for you y’know with the aprons cook you dinner and maybe we can have kids y’know we can even get —“

“ enough “

your body shook your eyes widened facing the 6 ft male now towering over you “ your always joking about serious things and I — I don’t understand “ his eyebrows creasing in desperate need to understand you. Eyes darting around your face “ how “

his voice going deeper as he got angrier “ y/n you lost your job“ his eyes grew wide “ do you realize how serious this is “

“ wh— “ you shook your head letting out a short scoff “ of course I do —I mean sho i’m the one who qui—lost it “

“ no you clearly don’t “ he scoffed “ not if your sitting here making jokes in my face “

His mouth quirked up in disgust “ it’s almost insulting — disgusting really “

“ wh— sho—“ you felt as a tear fell from your eye “ baby what could be so disgusting huh ? so ‘ insulting ‘ about me choosing to leave huh “

his eyes softened “ because of your reason to leave “

“ my reason ? “

“ my love I know you — I know you didn’t get fired and I know you wouldn’t just leave you loved it there “

your head dropped as your fiddled with your fingers “ so that means something led you to make that life changing decision and it hurts me that you were forced to make it “

Your heart broke, he was right he was always right, for days at work youd been dealing with an overbearing co worker who would tell you to do everything they didn’t feel like doing and when you finally decided to say no to them

They went and told your boss. Who even though you’d been working there longer than your so called coworker still believed everything they were told.

That was the day that you sadly found out your job favored years over hard work.

Due to the other person being there longer you were trumped in telling your story. It was seen as not necessary because , someone who was there for so long would have no reason to lie on someone like you.

A newbie

“ someone made you quit this job “

“ sho no they— I decided “

You felt as the couch shifted from him kicking it. You thinking he was moving to grab his shoes except walking past them and unlocking the door instead.

“ baby where are you going — we need to talk about how we’re going to split the bills now that i— “

“ i’ll handle it “

“ shoto you can’t put everything on your dads card we’re not “ you let out a soft exhale “ we’re not children anymore “

“ i’ll pay for it all myself — and you can be my little housewife “ he scoffed as your expression grew sour “ it was so funny a moment ago right “

“ shoto i’m not gonna ask again where are you going “

“ where else “

your eyebrows came together in a furrow “ wh— “

“ my love you work for my company ? obviously who ever I put in charge “ he shrugged walking barefoot to his car unlocking the door “ isn’t doing a very good job if they fire their bosses s/o ? “

He got into the drivers seat as he turned the car on and reversed the car “ needs to learn respect no ? so i’ll just have them switch places with you“ he smiled softly “ i’ll see you when I get home “

His once furious eyes turning soft at your body hidden in pajamas “ go inside baby —it’s cold —go order us some takeout i’ll be back in a little ok “

“ sho “

“ just let me handle this —i love you and i’ll be right back my love—go “

You shook your head softly “ go y/n “