#this arc should have been about losing even when you do things right

[starlightandsunshine]

Alright 3rd and final Star Wars take of the day that is probably pretty lynchworthy:

Echo should have died/already been dead in the Bad Batch arc in s7. Sorry guys, I love Echo too, but the story would have worked better if he was already dead when they got there.

Like there's a lot of things that could have made this arc better in general that I'm not going to really get into here without touching on the character design or whitewashing and racism around the clones (which many much more qualified people have talked about way more eloquently than I ever could). Like the fact that this arc should have been a Cody&Rex arc rather than writing Cody out so early in or the weirdly dismissive way the writers treated the other characters in order to lift tbb up when they could have just. Not done that. Really very easily.

But specifically the Echo thing: as soon as Rex finds out the possibility that Echo might still be alive, he is immediately ready to jump in with both feet without looking, and Anakin cautions him that they might not find Echo alive and he needs to prepare himself for the possibility that they can't save him. This has huge overall narrative implications, because we, the viewers, know that in a few weeks time he is going to turn his back on the people who love and trust him and betray everything he's ever sworn to stand for bc he is worried about the possibility of not being able to save Padme.

Now Rex goes with tbb and Anakin on a rescue mission that might not be a rescue mission. Tbb are still being very dismissive of the "regs" and Rex, quite understandably, is not handling their attitudes very well.

They get there, it's a trap and so on and so forth, but here's the important part: they don't find Echo alive. The Techno Union found him after the Citadel arc and mined his brain for data through hand wavy star wars means and they had no need to preserve anything else or keep him alive after that.

The rescue mission is too late and they never had the chance to save Echo at all. And Rex breaks. He holds it together for long enough to complete the mission, they escape the Techno Union and protect the village, but once they get back on the ship and head back towards Anaxes, he just shatters. Full on sobbing on the floor devastated bc he was so sure he could save Echo. He was so hopeful that he could save this one person after everything. After Fives and Tup and Ahsoka walking away and Kadavo and Umbara he just wanted to be able to save one person that he cared about. And they were already way too late.

We can see Anakin faced with all of this and the shadow of his future actions that he will do so that he will not have to deal with his own potential grief. We can see the paralells between Rex doing everything in his power to have the possibility of saving his brother and Anakin taking extreme steps to have the possibility of saving his wife.

The shadow of RotS hangs over the entire arc and this then makes the scene with Admiral Trench hit so much harder. Because it's not just the warning of how far Anakin has already fallen, its the spectre of the future hanging over his shoulder in more ways than one, the way that throughout the arc you can see his resolve to never lose Padme hardening so he never has to face that grief.

On the other end of things, tbb are faced with Rex's very real and present grief for Echo and have to acknowledge the love and care that the other clones have for each other. They get to grow as characters and learn to respect the grief of the "regs" bc there is a shared kinship there, they do share more than they don't, and they are all horribly aware of just how easily it could have been them. The arc can end with them learning to respect the other clones and finding a closer kinship with them rather than returning to the status quo just with Echo as a member and they sort of like Rex now. Not only would that have made them more relatable as characters but could have set up a much better conflict for the future in their show rather than the weird thing with Crosshair that we did get and them still not really connecting with any of the other clones in a show centred on the clones.

Like, let the characters fail. Let them lose. Let them have succeeded in their mission without having it be a victory. Let it be bittersweet. S7 is already bittersweet. We know what is coming. We know how close it is. The shadow of it looms over every single interaction in this season. So don't shy away from it. Lean into the shadow of Anakin's choices, lean in to the paralells that you're writing in, let the events have meaning and impact and consequences like so much of the rest of the show.

[nereidprinc3ss]

hourglass

in which spencer disappears from fem!reader's life entirely for three months, right as it seems they were finally about to make things official. when he comes back they reunite, all the while knowing things can't be the same as they were.

18+ (smut, angst) warnings/tags: oh god so many. NOT canon compliant in the slightest, i make shit up, softdom!spence, nipple stuff prob, fingering, oral f receiving, piv sex, unprotected sex, pet names, tara mentioned, depression, mentions of trauma cause its the prison arc duh, passing mentions of alcohol, mentions of spencer losing weight, reader mistakenly thinks spencer tried to kill himself BUT ONLY FOR A SECOND, where is diana reid, nobody knows or cares, probably filming glee, optimistic ending a/n: haven't posted smut in forever but this wip required it and the angst was so angsty i just had to finish it. it was started in jan or feb and subsequently added to and changed months apart and then edited so the writing quality varies from section to section which i apologize for. originally based on good guy by julia jacklin... also the odyssey by homer? can't really explain that one you'll just have to see for yourself anyway byeeee ilysm!!! PLS tell me if you liked it! or if you hated it! but preferably if you liked it! MWAH! wc <12k

It’s been about three months since you last saw Spencer Reid.

About three months since you had an early Valentine’s Day celebration (even though you weren’t a couple) complete with champagne (even though he doesn’t usually drink) and slow dancing (even though you swore you’d be terrible and he spent the first ten minutes laughing at you as you stepped on his toes.)

About three months since you finally settled your head on his shoulder and let the warbling vinyl carry you somewhere distant as the two of you danced slow circles on the parquet floor for what felt like hours.

You’d have liked him to stay later that night. You’d have liked him to stay all night if you were being honest with yourself, but at 11:45 he gently pulled away and told you he had to go.

“Curfew?” you joked, the corner of your mouth lifting a little and you hoped you were hiding your disappointment well.

“Actually, I’m going down to Texas for a few days to speak with one of the leading doctors in experimental Alzheimer's and dementia treatment. I’m going to see if he can get my mom into a clinical trial. I leave early tomorrow morning.”

“Oh my god, that’s amazing, Spencer! What are you doing still here? You should be at home getting ready to go!”

A rosy blush stains his cheeks and he looks down at the ground, laughing that little self-deprecating laugh of his. It makes your heart dance to see him so happy, makes you want to wrap your arms around him and never let him go so that he knows how much you absolutely adore him—but you settle for an affectionate squeeze where your hands have come to rest on his biceps.

“I wanted to see you tonight because I won’t be here for Valentine’s Day... but I still really wanted to spend it with you,” he admits meekly.

If before your heart was dancing, it is now melting.

The dreaded ‘what are we’ talk has been lurking in the dark corners of every conversation you have with each other lately—at least, in your mind it has. What you have with Spencer is not easily defined, and near impossible to explain to your friends—you act like a couple, you go out on dates, he introduces you to his team like you’re his girlfriend without ever putting it into so many words—but this validation that your pseudo-relationship might be evolving is better than any flowers he could have gotten you (although the peonies he brought will look very nice on your bedside table.)

“Four whole days... what will I do without you?” you whisper, brushing a hand along his face, and your chest aches with the heavy truth of it—despite the fact that he often is gone for stretches about that length. They don’t ever start to feel shorter.

“Well, you can start by reading that copy of The Odyssey I annotated for you.”

“Depressing,” you admit. “And a little ominous, considering you’re about to embark on a hero’s journey.”

“I think you’ll like this one,” he smiles.

You chew on your bottom lip, looking up at him as you think.

“Give me something to look forward to,” you say, earnestly.

“I—well, honestly, I just really want to kiss you and I’ve wanted to for a long time now and, you know, if that’s something you’re maybe also interested in then we could, uh, figure out a time to—”

“You want to kiss me?”

“Wh—you couldn’t tell?” Spencer says, like he can’t believe it.

As if on reflex, you lunge up and capture his lips with your own. It obviously catches him by surprise, but when you lower from your tiptoes he follows you, pulling you in closer and holding your face in his hands.

It’s too natural, too right, to be exhilarating. There’s no rush of adrenaline—it's more like stepping into a hot bath or warming your freezing hands at a fire. Like pieces clicking into place. It’s a relief.

You breathe into it, letting more and more of yourself melt against him. He keeps coming back to you deeper and deeper like a rising tide, and you want more than anything to keep getting closer to him—but then he stops. He stays close enough for you to breathe his air, but dodges your kiss gently before supplanting it with a gentle one to the corner of your mouth.

“I really have to go,” he breathes, before moving away from your mouth to kiss your forehead and speak softly against your skin. “If I don’t leave now I’ll be here all night.”

Which is exactly what you want, and the implication does little to make you want him less. But you care about him too much to be so selfish.

At some point, his hands found their way into your hair, and you gently grab his wrists.

“Incentive for you to come home.”

Nearly three months since that night.

At first when he stopped answering texts, you’d assumed he just had too much going on down in Texas. Which you could understand—you knew how stressful this situation with his mother was.

Even when four days came and went without even an alert from him that he was back in town, you thought, okay, maybe he’s been called away on a case. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s disappeared because of his work. But even then, he’d at least text you enough information so that you would know he was alive. Now, radio silence.

So you tried not to be clingy. You tried to act like an adult, to focus on school and your life outside of Spencer, but when Tara Lewis cancelled your weekly meeting due to an “unforeseen work-related emergency”you called her immediately. Tara was something of a mentor, and it was she who had connected you and Spencer to begin with. You had met the other members of his team by that point, yes, but none who you knew as well as Tara.

When she had informed you that Spencer had been arrested in Mexico and was now facing prison time for murder, you laughed.

Laughed until you realized her end of the line was silent.

Realized it was not at all a joke.

In a catatonic state of tranquility, you asked her for more details. Beyond assuring you of his innocence, she couldn’t (or more likely, wouldn’t) provide them. Asked where he was now. Asked all the right things that made sense to ask.

Then you hung up and had a panic attack because Tara said something about 25 years and you saw Spencer evaporate from your future like an apparition.

Slowly, you felt him evaporating from your past, too. Those memories from the night he left, became visions of you swaying with a ghost. Holding nothing but light between your hands as you kissed the peony air of your apartment.

He doesn’t want to see you, she had said into the phone one night, her tinny voice cutting in and out. You’re not on his list of approved visitors.

“You asked him about me?” you had whispered, curled up on top of your made bed in the dark.

I tried. I’m sorry. I’ll call you when I know more.

All your days melded together like a muddied smear of paint. Suddenly you felt you had nothing to look forward to. No anchor, no goal. Yes, a PhD... and then what?

The only thing that punctuated one 24 hour period from the next was the time you spent crying because Spencer was in prison and he didn’t want to see you and by the looks of things you may never see him again. When you weren’t crying, you were thinking about how your life was a big cosmic joke. An unfortunate statistical anomaly that didn’t mean anything to anyone else, and that you couldn’t do anything about.

That copy of The Odyssey, which wasn’t even bound and instead was a thick stack of printer paper organized by a single black clip, became something of a manifesto for you—a tome that your poured over, reading and re-reading each note in the margins, each word beautiful and imbued with meaning because you knew Spencer had selected every single one specifically for you. You traced the letters reverently, because in a way this was the last thing he had said to you—about Lattimore’s faith to the original text, Merrill’s strict use of dactylic hexameter, the stylings of Wilson and Lombardo, and how he thought you would enjoy Hammond’s prose just as much as he did.

Day by day it was becoming more prophetic than fictional, and you allowed yourself to sink into madness. You would rather be a deluded zealot than be nothing at all.

He didn’t want to see you.

He might as well have been dead, for all that you were grieving him. And you started to hate him, because he wasn’t dead, but wouldn’t do you the kindness of proving it. Like a festering wound, scratched open day after day so as not to ever heal, you had to live knowing he was less than an hour away. So no, you weren’t exactly over it. You lived day by day, waiting for the occasional call from Tara to keep you updated on Spencer, but either she didn’t want to share much about how he was doing, or he had specifically barred her from doing so, because she was always sparse on the personal side of things. That thought actually lifted your spirits, because it meant he was at least acknowledging your existence in some tiny way.

But your routine was becoming more regular, and so you staid on top of your classes and your non-Reid related meetings with Tara once a week, and you learned to dip your toes into existential dread and the oily black pool of depression every night without ever fully submerging yourself. You learned hope, because it was pretty much all you had, and the BAU had confidence that they would get Spencer out one way or another so you did too.

So you didn’t really think about it when you missed a couple of calls from Tara some evening in May. You were preparing for finals and had way too much on your plate academically to think about anything else which was a welcome relief so you fully embraced it. I’ll call her back tomorrow, you think, as you clean up from dinner before going back to the living room where your textbooks and papers are completely covering every available surface. Maybe I have no idea what I’m going to do with my life after school, but I’ll be damned if I don’t even make it that far.

Hours later, well into the night, you’d all but forgotten about the calls. A knock at the door takes you a bit by surprise, and you frown as you stand again, tugging your Georgetown sweatshirt down over your shorts as you shuffle to the entrance of your apartment. You’re not expecting anyone, so you crack the door, peering around the edge of it.

And you couldn’t even consider trying to hide that shaky inhalation of dead air when you see Spencer standing on the other side.

Surely you’re hallucinating.

Surely this man in front of you who looks like he just got back from a day of work didn’t spend three months in prison pretending you didn’t exist.

He looks the same. Hair a bit longer, maybe—and gaunter even more than is normal for him. 

But it's him.

You can’t think about the apprehensive look on his face—you can’t think about the impossibility of him being here. You can’t think at all. Without your explicit permission, your body surges forward into his, and he’s real, and alive, and warm, and he is an anachronism in the hallway as he accepts everything you pour into the embrace, doesn’t flinch when you move your arms from around his waist to loop around his neck and back to his waist again with crushing force because you just can’t get him close enough.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer mutters into your hair, I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry, he keeps saying, rubbing your back as you try to find a solid grip on the sleek material of his suit—try to gather all the pieces of him, already afraid he might fall apart and float away again.

“You—dis—disappeared,” you hiccup after an eternity, pulling away enough to look up at his pretty face. Tears blur your vision and darken the front of his jacket, bending the florescent lights so they form a kind of halo above his head.

Through the surreal haze you can see his throat bob.

“I know.”

He knows?

He knows?

You scoff.

“You have no fucking idea, Spencer. What the fuck is wrong with you? I—I'm—”

The hot anger is such a relief for a second, boiling the oceans of your despair into a wrathful, scorching fog, but as soon as you try to tell him how you feel, the barbed wire cuts into your throat again. You shove him away, skin burning where his hands had been.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks, hands hanging uselessly at his side. There’s that kicked puppy look about him—and it’s familiar, but now there’s more damage. You don’t know anything about his time in prison, you haven’t heard a damn thing, but beneath the glassy desperation in his eyes there is an unfathomable void that seems to be preventing him from being fully present—and you realize for the first time that he is different.

It chills you.

Before, you and Spencer shared everything. There wasn’t one part of his internal machinations that you didn’t understand, nothing you kept from each other. But as you study him now from a few feet away, you realize there might as well be a yawning chasm between the two of you.

He is so different.

Those eyes look deeper. No gears turning just behind the slashes of gold and brown anymore—only an endless dark corridor that goes places you will never go.

Gone is the perpetual boyish up-turn at the corner of his lips that always made him look slightly vacant in a way that you found incredibly amusing. Something you had been so fond of, even if you teased him.

He seems to have aged ten years—if not physically, then in demeanor. And now you feel like a little kid throwing a tantrum.

You cross your arms, suddenly unable to meet his eyes.

You’re embarrassed. And pissed. And relieved. Everything is worse and better. You want to fall back into his arms, but you have been jarred by the revelation that this might not be the same Spencer. It might not be the same relationship. You have no idea where you stand.

He says your name gently, with so much familiarity you’re briefly jerked into the past. It makes you wish you could look up to find him as he was three months ago. Wish this was just a bad dream. But that’s not fair to him.

“Sorry,” you mutter, studying the grey carpet fibers instead of looking at him.

“Don’t apologize,” Spencer says immediately, “you’re right. I don’t—” he clears his throat— “I’m being incredibly selfish. I shouldn’t have just shown up, I’ll just—I'll leave. I’m sorry.”

A silent moment passes.

You don’t look up as he turns and swiftly begins to move down the hall toward the stairway, leaving as quickly and silently as he had come, like a few bars of a song sighed in and away on a fleeting breeze.

Your bare feet are concretely planted, imagining him jogging down the steps and speed-walking away from your building—

And suddenly you’re sprinting after him, feeling like you might puke because Spencer was just here and you let him go again—and even though you’re still so mad and confused and hurt, the realization that he is leaving again makes the entire building spin and lurch.

“Wait!” You yell, almost wiping out as you run down the stairs and whip around corners in your slippery fucking socks. “Please, wait!”

The lobby is already empty as you spill out into it, and cold dread tightens around your neck like a fist as you shoulder your way through the double doors and right into Spencer.

“Please don’t leave again, you just—I'm sorry, I really need you to not go—” you blabber, lachrymose once more, gripping onto his forearms for dear life.

“I’m not going,” he breathes shakily. “I tried to leave because I think you were right and maybe I should and maybe it would be better for you but I can’t.”

“You can’t,” you agree, more sob than spoken word. He cups your jaw, then your cheeks, wiping tears and brushing away hair like he can’t figure out how to hold enough of you between his hands. The wild kaleidoscope of his eyes, bright and alive and real as he scans you desperately captures your attention enough to slow the tears to a trickle. He notices this and stares back, entranced.

A silent agreement is made, or maybe an inevitable fate is accepted—either way, something was set in motion three months ago and it matters to see it through. Spencer kisses you and you’re ready for it. You don’t need slow or tender. You need to feel how he feels. You need to know what he knows.

You sling your arms around his neck and he pulls you closer until you almost tip backward, chasing the bruising kiss even as you regain your footing. You want to drink him in and you do your best, breathing deeply as he kisses you deeper, backing you inside and toward the elevator.

“Is this okay?” he manages, only after blindly reaching for and mashing the up button on the wall panel.

Ideally it wouldn’t happen like this, but the world you live in obviously isn’t ideal and your personal situations as they coincide are far from ideal, so this is how it has to happen. But it’s hard to explain, and you’d rather not admit that this is so far from what you wanted for both of you and follow up with the fact that despite that you need him like you need water. So you don’t say a word as the metal doors slide open promptly. Instead you pull him in and let him press you to the chrome wall as he hits your floor button, and that very hand comes back to grab your ass like you didn’t think Spencer Reid capable of. It almost aches as his fingers dig into the flesh, but it’s a good ache because it means he’s real and he’s there.

You gasp as he hitches your leg up, arching into him. The shorts that you’re wearing leave very little to the imagination to begin with, but they become downright indecent like this.

Quickly the elevator stops and the doors hiss open. You don’t hesitate to pull Spencer by the hand down the hall. When you notice you left your door wide open, you don’t even care. Neither does he, apparently—once you’re inside he slams it shut, flipping the deadbolt while his eyes are glued to you like you’re already naked. Now Spencer is shameless in the way he drags his eyes over every curve, every place your clothes and hair are disheveled from his touch and eye-fucks you so obviously it makes your face warm. Three months ago Spencer would have at least been bashful about it when he met your eyes again, but this Spencer is far from apologetic as he pins you with his burning gaze once more. His hand stays stuck to the door like he’s holding himself back.

“Is this what you want?”

There’s an undercurrent of sorrow below the gravely arousal, like this isn’t what he wanted for the two of you either. But you’re both at the mercy of fate. This is all you have, and it might be all you can do for each other anymore. So you don’t need to say that, because he understands.

“Yeah. Yes, this is what I want.”

For just a second more he watches you from his place by the door, and there’s an unexpected softness to it. He looks at you the way he would have looked at you before. Like as long as he stays there he can entertain the idea of being that person again.

Need wins out quickly, though, and he surges forward. Immediately you’re caught in the riptide of him, helpless as he kisses you all the way to your bedroom.

He’s never been in here before. You find yourself glad it’s relatively clean—one of the pastimes you’d picked up in his absence was keeping everything tidy. It was something you could control.

A lamp glows at your bedside. You lean against the footboard of your bed, hands timidly behind your back and suddenly shy to have in him in your intimate space. Both of you set aside the heaving desperation long enough to catch your breaths, and for him to scan the room like he too is being forced to reconcile with the innate and unexpected intimacy of the moment. He cuts a harsh, dark gash in your sweetly decorated bedroom, radiating something wild and powerful and unsure of himself like a chained bull as he takes in the soft, pale bedding, the paintings and photos taped to the walls, the woven rug and the sheer drapery. His breathing slows as he studies it all—eyes eventually catching on something behind you. Looking is unnecessary. You’re sure he’s spotted the dried peonies in their ceramic vase. Or maybe the now worn stack of papers that is his Odyssey, marked up and soft around the edges from constant flipping-through.

Then Spencer looks at you, and that softness seeps in again. Along with something like... fear? Grief?

In some other universe your first time with Spencer is sweet and giggly and kind and he smiles at the decor in your room and looks around with wonder because it’s another way he gets to know you. It’s a different way to learn you from the inside.

You sense that he’s caught in between universes right now as well, painfully aware of what he would have given you that he can’t anymore.

He breathes your name like an apology, and foolishly you let a second go by in which you think he might offer you one. But he doesn’t. Not with his words, anyway. His eyes tell a different story.

“It’s fine,” you say unprompted on a whispered exhale, then a little louder as you push off the footboard, crossing the space until your hands are on his chest. You focus on his tie, not making eye contact as you rush to undo it. “It’s fine.”

He lets you do this for a few seconds before finally covering your trembling hands with his own. You still can’t meet his eyes.

“We don’t have to do—”

“No! No, please. I want to. I need—I need us to be okay.”

“Hey,” he murmurs, catching your chin and forcing you to look at him. “We are okay. Me and you are fine.”

It’s a pretty thought, but it’s not true. In fact, it’s a hideous and abject affront to the truth. Sure, maybe you’re fine in comparison to last week. Maybe anything feels fine compared to an eight by six cell. But it would be impossible for you and Spencer, for your relationship, whatever that relationship may be, to be fine. It’s especially impossible for him to make that claim, after all he did or rather didn’t do while he was gone. What you need is for him to stay anyway. What you need is to find a way to be with him, to exist with him, even when you are so clearly not fine.

“I just need you to stay,” you whisper, and he’s already nodding, wide-eyed like he’d do anything for you. You ignore all the bitter venom rising in your throat. You pretend this isn’t all happening after he cut you out of his life with a dirty switchblade. Instead you focus on his hands on yours, the familiar smell of him, which invites you to let go of each and every thought and worry. He must’ve showered before coming here, you realize. How long has he been out? What happened? 

“Okay. Okay, I can stay. What else can I do? How do I make it better?”

You sniffle and look back down.

“You can untie that for me.”

He hesitates, then nods some more, fingers working under yours to undo the tie around his neck.

“Okay.”

A moment goes by and after that final whispered word, the tension begins to build again. Spencer senses it in the way your fingertips linger on his chest and you step even closer, dragging them down to his belt. The metallic sound of it unbuckling, despite being your own doing, still manages to flip your stomach. How many times have you pictured this? When was the first time you realized you wanted it? You’re sure you haven’t stopped wanting it even once since then.

Spencer tosses the tie away and is shrugging off his jacket now, then before you see it coming he’s kissing you again, ducking down to do it. He feels taller this close up, and especially in your bedroom, where he just seems rather out of place. But you want him here. God, you want him here.

You break the kiss, forced to look down as you fumble with his belt.

“Sorry,” you gasp, embarrassed by your lack of dexterity. The light is barely sufficient to see what you’re doing, especially when he’s wearing black on black and your eyes are still bleary.

“You’re okay,” he assures you, and it’s so Spencer a fresh round of nerves electrifies the tips of your fingers. That thing is happening—the thing you’d hoped to avoid if you hadn’t lost momentum partway through, where you’re allowing your actual feelings for him to get in the way rather than getting swept up in the pathos of the moment and letting everything be easy and mindless. “Here, can I help you?”

But he doesn’t actually wait for an answer before he’s finishing off the belt for you, tugging it loose from his hips till it’s a leather coil in his hands. Your fingers brush the material and he lets you take it as if it were your prize. It’s heavier than you thought it’d be, and you just feel the weight of it in your hands for a moment, your dropped head brushing his chest.

You have a terrible feeling that if you do this now, it doesn’t mean everything will be alright. Because it can’t just go back to normal. Spencer has told you nothing of what must be an enormous trauma, and you haven’t spoken about it at all, but you sincerely doubt that after this he’s going to be ready to just jump into that committed relationship the two of you had been toying with for months before his absence. You’re almost... scared of him, now. Scared of where he’s been and what he’s endured—things you’re sure you couldn’t have taken. What that does to a person, you can’t imagine. He seems so solid and real in front of you now—but you know that’s not always enough. Maybe you’re just scared that somehow whatever he’s been through will have made him care for you less. That you were too far removed from the whole ordeal, and now you’ll never understand. If you could understand, maybe you could fix it for him. Maybe he’d stick around.

Still—even if you do end up pushing him further away in the long run—won't it have been worth it to have had him so completely, even just once?

You toss the belt to the ground, compressing all of these very complicated thoughts and feelings into a few seconds so short he can’t ask you any questions about them. Instead you find his top button, and just as you manage to undo it with relative ease he’s gently grabbing your wrists. You look up at him, immediately surrendering.

“If we’re going to do this I need you to relax a little bit.”

Gears grind in your chest. You feel need and anxiety comingling in every square inch of your body. It’s a sick buzz—a high on an empty stomach.

“I can’t,” you admit.

“Yeah, you can,” Spencer gently disagrees, slowly lowering your hands. When he’s sure you’re not going to try ripping his clothes off again, he releases, and his eyes lower to the zipper of your hoodie. His fingers follow, warm against the soft triangle of revealed skin at your chest as he grips the small piece of metal between barely shaking fingers. “You can.”

You match his eyeline, breathing shallowly and watching as he slowly drags the zipper down. You wonder if that sound has haunted his fantasies the way the sound of his belt has haunted yours. If he’s seen this hoodie on you and wondered what’s underneath, staring at you and daydreaming during movie night with you none the wiser.

Both of you have your eyes glued to the span of skin as the zipper parts. Spencer stalls with the zipper at your sternum, just below the band of your bra.

Right. No shirt.

You look up and find his eyes already on you, tinged with a curious kind of humor.

“I wasn’t expecting guests.”

The words come out shy. Spencer’s chuckle has its own nervous airy quality as he resumes tugging on your zipper, leaning down until your noses bump.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

Then he kisses you again, a little sweeter now. Sweet enough to give you butterflies and for them to flutter right out of your stomach and spill from your lips in a little whimper against his.

It comes as a surprise when he pushes the fabric from your shoulders without looking or asking. Not that you’d have said no—you're just underprepared for how assertive he is in this foreign context.

Left just in your flimsy shorts and your thin bra, you feel quite exposed—but Spencer’s hands are as demanding and hungry as his mouth. They skim up your sensitive sides and sweep lower, suggesting less proper placement over your ass and pulling at your bottoms until you gently put a stop to their wandering.

“Wait. We’re... we’re uneven.”

It’s a struggle to get any words out at all when he keeps chasing your lips, nipping at you like he physically can’t stand not kissing you, but they catch his attention and he laughs airily, pulling back to let his gaze pour over your less clothed form. It lingers and catches and lights you up everywhere it touches, drops of heat soaking into your skin and making you feel all fuzzy and needy.

“We are,” he acknowledges, tone low and colored with the faintest smile. “You’re a lot prettier without your clothes on than I am.”

“I don’t believe you.”

The challenge comes immediately and thoughtlessly. Spencer’s golden eyes flash up to yours. He’s breathing a little harder than usual.

“You want me to show you what I mean?”

If that means getting him naked, then yes, absolutely.

You nod, but rather than immediately stripping, he takes your hand and holds his own open next to it. A thick pink scar bisects some pretty significant palmistry lines, but you don’t mention that. Instead you swallow—your thoughts, your words, your nausea.

“That’s new.”

You wonder how you hadn’t noticed it earlier.

He nods.

“A lot is new.”

It sounds almost like he’s challenging you—there's a kind of tremulous force in his voice, despite the perpetual softness there, like he’s inviting you to say it’s ugly. And you realize he’s referring to more than just the glowing scar cutting an asteroid trail against the flesh of him palm. The scars he obtained in prison must form a constellation over his body.

“I don’t care. I wanna see you.”

Spencer swallows, cupping your face with the scarred hand once more. You can’t feel it against your cheek but you know it hasn’t gone away.

“I’m sure you think you do,” he permits, and that’s where the conversation ends for the moment—with his hand on your face and his lips back on yours. “For now why don’t you let me worry about you?”

Obediently, you breathe, “okay.”

This is, for whatever reason, amusing to him. The brief levity dies as quick as it comes like a snuffed-out brush fire as soon as he lets his hands fall back down to your hips.

“I want... I want to give you slow. But...”

But slow is for people who didn’t lose three months of their life. Slow is for people who don’t know what it’s like to be starving. Slow is not for the desperate.

You understand the feeling.

“I don’t need slow.”

You’ll let him use you up like quick-burning fuel if that’s what he needs. You’ll go as fast and as bright and as hot as he tells you.

“But you want slow,” he murmurs, a secret acknowledged into your own waiting mouth. You’d keep it there forever. You could be the object he hides his soul in. “I know you do. You deserve to get what you want.”

“I can go fast. I want whatever you can give me.”

Spencer’s shuddering exhale is like a drug, dizzying as you inhale it and your eyes flutter at the high, pressed head-to-head with him. For so long you’ve needed him so badly. It’s overwhelming to have him now, all over you. If only your walls could breathe him in the way you are, if this room could remember what it feels like to hold him the way you will, if any inanimate object could bear witness to how you’ll give yourself, any part of yourself, over to him, so willingly.

“I’m going to try.” Spencer’s voice is hoarse as he walks backward to the bed, taking you by the hips as he goes. “I want to do it right. I want to do this the way I... the way I imagined it, before...”

Now he’s sitting, and you’re standing between his legs as he finds the clasp of your bra and undoes it, his fingers a comforting pressure where they ghost down the slope of your back. Your heart is pounding at the confession, at the way his tongue darts over his bottom lip and his fingertips journey back up to your straps, looking up at you with haloed irises as if he’d find anything other than the most dangerous kind of smoldering devotion in your eyes—the kind cult-leaders seek and spend years nurturing, and he’d earned with a mere brush over your bare skin.

The fabric slides down your arms, and as it falls to the floor, you watch something like despair flash-flood his eyes. It is a deep, distinctly human grief. The ineffable kind where something is almost too beautiful; so perfect it offends the mortal senses because it should be permanent, but nothing is, and the clash of divine beauty with unstoppable time which oxidizes copper and covers marble with vine is almost as grotesque as metal rending delicate flesh. It is the grief that drove the first poet to write and the first parents to press their baby’s painted hands to the walls of a cave. It is the desire to do the impossible—to capture ephemeral perfection and make it eternal, and the knowledge that it is hopeless. You recognize it because you’ve felt it for him.

“I thought about you all the time,” he whispers, doesn’t bother calling you beautiful but you don’t mind because he’s telling you with his hands and his eyes and the waver of his voice. “When I was gone, I thought about you—”

You’re just as quiet, just as soft.

“Don’t, Spencer.”

He doesn’t get to tell you about when he was gone. Not now. Not after he acted like you didn’t exist.

“Okay.” He swallows the things he’d wanted to tell you like you choked on the things you needed to tell him for three months. “I’m sorry.”

But his hands—his hands are perfect over your waist and his lips are perfect where they kiss your ribs like they’re his homeland. You could forgive a thousand wrongs for each kiss he puts to your skin. Light from the full moon stretches over the room like a blessing from the cosmos, and you have every intention of making the most of that gift, how the silver gilds the planes of his face and highlights curls like they were carved, and invites you to search for something in each shadow.

Some of his kisses land over the sensitive skin of your breasts though you doubt he has much intention or that there is any sort of end-goal with the trail he blazes—in fact, you have to root your hand in his hair and pull gently back when he doesn’t seem to realize that he’s making you wait again. His eyes are glassy and cheeks slightly pinkened—you weren’t expecting this wave of fondness to knock you on your ass but here you are, falling all over again.

“You don’t have to go that slow.”

A slow smile splits the heart of his mouth at your bashful tone and he’s emboldened to bring his hands higher for a moment, thumbs brushing particularly delicate though not downright indecent spots. Nonetheless, your breath catches.

“Impatient girl,” he scolds, and though it’s lighthearted it still inspires heat to dance across your face. Oh, I think I’ve been plenty patient, you itch to say, but you bite it back because it’s only sad and true and unkind.

Still, he gives you the beginning of what you want, really only the tip of the enormous iceberg that is your desire for him, by slipping his thumbs into the waistband of your shorts and tugging them down. His hands slide up the fronts of your thighs, tracing the trim of your underwear, and you’d swear he’s not even breathing. The moment one of his hand loops behind your knee and pulls forward until it’s pressed to the mattress and you’re half-kneeling, half standing, desire begins to truly cloud your mind. Manhandling never seemed like Spencer’s style, but when paired with how softly he reveals your hip, pulling gently down on the fabric of your underwear just to admire you up close, you don’t mind it.

More kisses are littered over your stomach, and he takes you by surprise a second time with a quick maneuver landing you on your back and him on top of you.

“I wasn’t doing you justice with my imagination,” he murmurs against your mouth. “I couldn’t have known.”

“Couldn’t have known what?” you pant as he shamelessly digs his fingers into the plush of your ass. You almost hope it bruises.

“How pretty you would be,” he coos like he means it, and you dissolve, slipping through his fingers like sand in an hourglass. “You were holding out on me.”

It’s a tease, not at all serious, but you manage to hit him with a, “Was not, asshole,” and he chuckles, placating your little hurt with another sticky kiss, and you get another disorienting glimpse of some other timeline where you’re both a little less damaged. Where it’s a little easier.

But in this timeline, his touch becomes starving and ragged and urgent, and you accept the drag of his thumb up your thigh and between your legs, gasping when he runs his knuckles up the center of you. This touch is metal on screeching metal. It does not pretend to be anything more than what it is—brute, powerful, executed to elicit sensation. You get the sense that Spencer’s never touched anyone this honestly, and while you do envy the girls who got to have him gentler, you’ll take this as the compliment that it is. A kind of vulnerability that is nearing primal.

His lips, though—always his lips—are kind when they brush and land on your skin guided by some invisible map. A dip down your neck and chest and then a plunge, his tongue dragging over your hips, chasing the fabric of your underwear as he almost pulls it off and then reroutes, making room for himself between your legs and pushing lace aside to mark the hinge of your inner and upper-most thigh. Your chest heaves and you don’t dare move for fear he’ll stop leaving signs of himself on your body and you won’t be able to reassure yourself that it was real and he was here and it was not another dream.

Because something in you knows, if only consciously recognizing it for the first time now, that he will disappear again. That this may be your only chance.

The desire to make the ephemeral eternal. An impossibility.

He’s clearly losing himself to something, eyes shutting blissfully. You wonder when the last time he let his guard down even a  little was. You’re okay with being the thing he gets lost in, even if you’re not exactly okay with him—something you are becoming more acutely aware of as each touch makes a part of you want to cry. Maybe you still have some things in common. A strange pain that doesn’t quite feel like it belongs to you, for one thing.

You slam back into your body as his nose nudges against you through fabric, and his lips catch on cotton as he drags himself up, eventually settling a kiss against the little bow at the waist of your underwear. There he stays, eyes closed, mouth pressed to you.

“Is this okay?”

You swallow, buzzing. Is this really what he wants? After everything?

“You don’t have to...”

“But is it okay with you?”

Nothing more than an airy whisper, you reply, “Yes, if that’s what you want.”

Being emotional at this point seems wrong, but it’s difficult to ignore the fact that you have thought about this before and it’s finally happening but it’s not exactly as you’d imagined it. There is an indelible sadness to it, to the way he’s so hungry for you because he’s been deprived, to the desperation with which he touches you because he’s had everything taken from him.

For a moment, before he tugs your underwear down, he pauses, and you wonder if he’s freezing one moment in time, this moment, and grieving all the other ways it could’ve been, and accepting that this is the way it is going to be. You are.

These higher realms of thought abandon you as he finally pulls the last barrier down your legs and encourages you to spread them further. You don’t have time or energy to be embarrassed, not even by his staring, or the way his eyes dart up to yours and back down again, wide and shining, as if to say, have you seen yourself? Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?

All you feel is the lack of him on you, the pull to have him closer so strong it’s almost sickening because he could be gone at any second. Maybe he understands that because he doesn’t waste anymore time before he’s kissing the most sensitive part of you. The drag of his tongue has you loosing a shuddering cry.

His mouth wanders, making connections you wouldn’t have realized the value of until you feel them on your skin. Your hips buck as he traces you and you’re unable to stop yourself from tangling your hands in his hair. Speech fails you—hell, you can hardly breathe as you watch his with a furrowed brow and parted lips, only expelling air from your lungs in the form of little cries and gasps and failing to hold your hips down to the bed.

The tip of his tongue teases around your entrance and he catches your leg as your foot rises off the bed, slinging it over his shoulder and consuming you more fervently until you have no choice but to moan though you’ve never been one for theatrics. Nobody has done this for you like he’s doing it for you. Locks of hair fall in front of his face and you hold them back for him, shuddering as he shifts his weight and presses the tip of his finger to your cunt.

“Ah—please,” you manage, your first words since he started. Spencer groans against you and the sound is so wonderfully unexpected, so much better than in your dreams. You cant your hips up in further invitation, chirping as he takes it, pushing two fingers into you at once. Your eyes screw shut and you bite back a whine at the slight stretch, unconsciously writhing your hips either to get further away or take him deeper, you’re not sure.

Spencer pulls back, kissing your hips and thighs and pumping his fingers very slowly as you adjust.

“’M sorry,” you pant, “it’s been awhile, I...”

“Don’t apologize,” Spencer says like it’s simple, his own breath coming quicker. “How’re you feeling? Need me to stop?”

“No! No, it feels really good, I feel good.”

He holds your burning gaze, matching it with his own, and his hair is tousled and his cheeks are flushed as he continues to move his hand.

“Yeah?”

“...Yeah.”

This little show of obedience, of call and response, has him smiling before he occupies his mouth with something else once more. It’s a different smile than you’re used to from him, but you decide you don’t at all mind it.

Like that, with his tongue and fingers working tirelessly, your orgasm comes on quickly. The feeling is rare but not entirely foreign, and in that brief moment of utter disconnect between your brain and reality, of sheer white-hot pleasure, you don’t feel you’re missing out on anything at all. How could you be, when you are here and Spencer is here and for a moment all your neurons are lighting up and flashing neon? How could there be anything more to life than the searing feeling of him slowly withdrawing his fingers from you, than your hips between his hands like he’s cradling the world, and his lips, indiscriminate with where they kiss because every part of you is worthy of attention?

You’re reeling, and your legs are gelatinous as he so affectionately sucks the darkest mark yet onto your inner thigh like a parting gift, like he’s signing his trembling work. If you could clamp your legs shut around the almost painful aftershocks you would, but he’s climbing back up your body, so all you can do is wriggle against him and release delayed, stunted little moans. He stops to kiss your neck before he makes it to your mouth and drinks down all your sounds until you’re gentle and pliant for him like you haven’t been yet.

His voice is soft and sympathetic when he speaks. “Better?”

Wordlessly you nod, both comforted and unsettled by how well he knows you. What, exactly, has been made better, you’re not sure. Not trust. You don’t trust him anymore. Something cheaper, but temporarily effective. A sense of permanence, maybe, however fleeting it may be. You’ve completed something with him now, and he’s still here, still sweet.

He looks into your eyes, then, for a moment—and there is just enough light in the room for you to tell yourself that the shadows dancing there as he looks at you are love.

They morph as you watch into haunting, wild hunger. Pained even now.

He sits up abruptly and so do you, scooting back against your headboard and pulling your knees to your chest to protect your pounding heart as Spencer takes you in with darting eyes and quick breaths. His fingers find the collar of his shirt and he begins to unbutton.

“I need you to remember it’s all going to heal.”

He swallows, and you hardly have the wherewithal to study the way he unbuttons his shirt, a way he exists in the world that you had previously not been privy to. The words are too distracting.

“What?”

Sometimes he reminds you of a deer, with those big brown eyes that can’t help betraying anxiety. Moreso in those old pictures he’d shown you from his early days at the BAU—but it shines through occasionally even now. It’s reassuring to know that something inside of his has remained soft.

“Just...” his fingers don’t stop at their task, and you come to the disturbing realization that his knuckles are bruised. “Please don’t freak out, alright?”

Your mouth goes dry, eyes glued to the lengthening span of revealed skin.

And before he even has his shirt fully undone, something isn’t right.

He’s like a Pollack of bruises—starbursts and watercolor blots of discoloration blooming over his side and stomach.

You’re glad the light is off for two reasons: one, being that you don’t think you could handle the bruising in all its glory, and two, you hope the look of horror painted on your face is at least partially obscured from Spencer.

But you can’t. You simply don’t have the gas in the tank to freak out, as he’d said—at least not externally. Those bruises shouldn’t be there, but 96 days is a long time to be gone.

You drag your eyes back to his—nervous, deeply insecure and mistrustful. A deer. Just like those pictures of a 24 year old Spencer in an FBI jacket that was too big for him.

It’s enough to have you scooting on your knees across the mattress to him. Those big eyes stay glued to you as you draw near, falling as you carefully push open his shirt, cautious not to bump any tender spots as it falls to the bed. A flash of white gauze wrapped around his forearm that makes your stomach flip. How? You want to ask. Why?

He doesn’t seem to know what you’re going to do, and neither do you, until you’re grabbing his hands, bruised knuckles and all, and just... holding them for a minute.

“I lost weight,” he says quietly, as if that’s the most shocking thing about his current appearance, though it is noticeable.

“You’re still pretty.”

He smiles at this—a true Spencer Reid smile. Flattened lips, eyes tinged silver with sadness, voice quiet and anxious and wavering.

“I didn’t have a lot to spare.”

A moment goes by.

“I’m not going to ask you about them,” you promise, though you care so much and you want to know but you already understand that he won’t want to tell you.

Another moment. It doesn't surprise you to watch the shiny vulnerability in his eyes to freeze over completely. But he squeezes your hands once in thanks, and you know it’s still the same Spencer.

“Lie down.”

Oh. Right.

This.

You do as he says, taking a deep breath to try and exhale the concern twisting your stomach like a poison. Somehow your room feels so unfamiliar, so new with him in it. Even the whorls on your ceiling look different as you study them, trying to time the pattern of your breathing with the pattern of the paint and plaster and not let the sound of Spencer further undressing quicken your heartrate too much.

Soon he’s coaxing your legs apart again, reverently, and kneeling between them, studying every part of you—lingering not on the parts you’d expect. He traces the scar on your knee with his thumb, follows a line down your thigh to the freckle on your hip. The scrutiny is unnerving and warms you everywhere. Perhaps he senses the microscopic clench of your thighs as you imagine pushing them together, if he weren’t in the way.

“You alright?” He asks, still stroking your hip. Tender again. It’s so hard to keep up.

“I...”

Suddenly your heart beat is a deafening echo in your own ears. The tide of your breathing is too powerful, too in and out and whooshing, leaving you always too empty or too full but never comfortable.

Maybe he’s changed, and he’s harder to know now, but he is the same Spencer. He is the Spencer you’d fallen in love with. The hard part is knowing that now you may never get a chance to tell him that. You don’t know if he’d be able to hear it.

There are things you can’t have with him anymore. Not now, at least. Maybe not ever. But you can have this. It will be different, but you’d rather him be different and here than the same and only in your memory.

You swallow.

“I’m good.”

Tangling your hand in his hair once more, you pull him down into a kiss. It’s hesitant, at first—maybe he can taste your thoughts, where they’d been balancing just on the tip of your tongue. But the uncertainty fades and he kisses you deeper, harder, in a way that is hard to keep up with. You like the messy overwhelm of his lips, teeth, tongue. That’s the only way he knows how to want you.

When you go to wrap your leg around his waist he catches it, running his hands over the soft plush of your thigh. The hard line of him presses against you like memory foam and you gasp and he breathes it in deeply as your brain short-circuits, as you realize this is really going to happen, that you’re going to have him like you’ve never had him before and in ways you’ve only imagined and immediately felt ashamed for.

“Spencer,” you whisper. He ducks to leave open-mouthed kisses along your neck and your eyes flutter shut, craning your neck but not losing sight of your objective as you reach down blindly. When you find what you’re looking for he freezes, groans against your neck at the same time as you breathe the tiniest whimper. Just in your hand he feels impossible, hot and imposing and hard. Your heart palpitates.

Without thinking, you angle your hips up and encourage him closer, until the tip of him is smearing through your folds, and you both go utterly silent like the breath had been stolen right from your lungs. The moment crystallizes, time around you hardening like preserved amber to keep you frozen there forever.

And then he rolls his hips, catching the underside of his cock on the crux of you, and then he does it again, and you choke out a moan and so does he, and it’s beyond perfect—it's nirvana, more than you could ever have conceived of, with his weight pressing you into the mattress, arms caging you in, his heavy breaths hot against your neck and vice versa as you twine together like serpents on a rod, your foot floating in the air as you widen your legs to make more room for him.

And you’re not even fucking yet.

“Oh my god,” you whine, just for him, barely audible under the heavy cloak of night, the thickened air in your bedroom and the sound of panting and fabric shifting. It’s like your heart is trying to reach through your chest to his own where they’re pressed together—that is how hard it’s beating.

Spencer only breathes a long, low curse and shifts so he can grasp himself. Your fingers drift down the shaft of him as he slots himself at your entrance, notching half an inch in and you hold your breath, and you brace yourself—and then he’s kissing you again, but gentler this time. Reassuring. You soften, you can’t not, releasing all your air in a soft gust through your nose, and then he’s pushing in.

Your lips part at the stretch as it fuzzes your mind, but he stays right there, nose pressed to your nose, lips ghosting over your own. He’s not going anywhere, you think, and you’re glad for it, when it burns ever so slightly, and the tiniest whine escapes your open mouth.

“Shh,” he soothes immediately, low and soft, only fractionally louder than you had been. “You’re okay.”

Spencer. Your Spencer.

For a moment, you’re living in that alternate universe. The kinder one. The flash of pain you feel then has nothing to do with the way he’s opening you up.

This is the closest you have ever been, and in some strange way, the furthest apart.

Together, fingers brushing, you guide him until he settles at not quite your deepest point. You can feel that he’s not giving you everything yet, but you’re okay with that, as you adjust to the full feeling. Spencer again senses your desire to close your legs against the deep intrusion, and gives you the best he can by encouraging you to wrap your legs around him.

“Good girl,” he whispers tenderly, nudging at your jaw with his nose and dragging kisses along the ridge of it. Your stomach flips at the moniker and your brain turns to warm sludge as your eyes flutter shut. It makes you feel all light-headed and you flutter around him. Spencer chuckles into the junction of your neck and shoulder and the vibrations send a chill down your arching spine. “I thought you might like that one.”

“Mhm.”

“Mhm. How are you? You okay?”

“’M ready.”

“You’re ready?” His tone is dripping sarcasm and faux-disbelief as he pulls back the slightest bit only to push right back in deeper, this time. Your toes curl, one thigh sliding higher up his waist as you cling to him.

“Fuck,” you manage, a pitiful, high pitched curse tossed to the wind. He echoes the sentiment.

“Oh, my god,” he groans, continuing with that slow pace, “you feel so good, angel.”

You grapple at his back, searching for purchase as your brow knits. “Faster.”

This inspires another breathy chuckle, but he obliges, and you cry out softly. It’s almost unreal, your head buried against his neck, drunk on his scent and the drag of him like a shock felt in the far reaches of your body, again and again.

There’s nothing you can say that will accurately demonstrate what you’re feeling, so you elect not to speak, to remain silent and try to get a grip on this cacophony of sensation and emotion. But it’s too much to be alone with. You feel you have to get it out, to seek understanding. You can’t do it alone.

“Spencer.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t know...” the sentence trails off into a gentle keen. He moves to kiss you, speaking against your lips.

“You don’t know?”

Shyly you shake your head. Spencer sighs wistfully.

“Do you know how much I missed you?”

It’s like he can sense your need for comfort. For something grounding.

And while this topic was off-limits earlier—you're softer now. The stone walls that form your boundaries have been chipped away and lowered.

Spencer continues unprompted.

“I thought about you every day. Every night while I was falling asleep. You were always on my mind, angel girl.”

You whine. Whether it’s pleasure or distress is anyone’s guess—including your own.

“You were gone so long,” you whisper, eyes shut.

At this, Spencer slows again, and the tension that was building settles back to a simmer.

“I know. I wish I could—I wish I could change that. But I’m here, okay? I’m right here with you.”

Then he makes sure you feel every last inch, and it takes your breath away. If your thoughts were any more coherent, they’d be something along the lines of: but for how long? How long until you leave again?

“You’re here.”

You say it like a mantra, once out loud, and then again and again in your head, timed with every clash of your hips. With each repetition he becomes more real. Every little ache, every tingling, head-emptying brush against that most sensitive spot inside proves to you that he could not be any closer. This can’t be faked. It can’t be another dream to wake up in tears from.

“You’re here,” you gasp as it hits you, as it truly sinks in.

“I’m here,” he breathes.

There’s so much you want to say—three months of words you need him to hear, of things you need to talk to him about, things you need to yell at him for and things you can only say crying in his arms and things you can only say laughing or whispering or drunk or half-asleep—and in this moment you can’t manage any of it. Every word condenses into one drop of salt water, drifting away from your eye and down your cheek. Spencer doesn’t tell you to stop crying. He only kisses the tear away, and murmurs I’m here I’m here I’m here over and over again against your skin until he’s not even speaking it out loud anymore. But you feel it. With every brush of his lips, every breath, every movement, you feel it.

Soon he’s adjusting his angle, gradually picking up the pace but retaining that unforgiving depth, and your nails bite into the skin of his back as your jaw drops. Spencer hisses, pressing impossibly closer.

“I’m sorry!” you squeak.

“Do it again.”

“Wh—what?”

“Please,” he begs, low and hot against your jaw, just beneath your ear. “Do it again, honey.”

Honey.

You’d do anything for him if it meant he calls you that again.

When he shifts his weight to one arm and reaches down between your bodies to play with your aching clit in exactly the right way, you don’t really have a choice. You arch and moan wantonly enough to feel embarrassed as your nails scratch down his back. At the same time he’s making noises of his own, and you almost feel guilty for marking him up like this only you think he likes it. The most perfect and troubling tension is building in your core, so taut you almost fear the inevitable rebound when it snaps. But you’re driven to be exactly what Spencer needs right now, and to let him try and be what you need. Even if it scares you. Even if you’re not sure how.

Spencer groans, head tucked to the bend of your shoulder. “I’m not gonna last.”

Any response you might’ve been about to muster is annihilated by a sudden, deep bolt of pleasure.

“’M gonna cum,” you mewl like it’s a secret.

“Are you?” he asks, coming up breathless. If your eyes were open, you’re sure you’d see him above you.

“Mhm.”

“Look at me. Look at me.”

It is unmistakably a command—one you fight to follow.

You cry out as you meet the intensity of his gaze, those shadowy corridors suddenly ablaze and alive. They are not unending, like you’d thought. They are a door thrown open to let the light in, or maybe to let the fire out. They’re open in this moment for you.

No more words are spoken after that—you cum hard, gasping as you fall and spin. Spencer follows very shortly after, like he was holding it together just for you, and your eyes are still locked though everything is a bit bleary.

“Fuck,” you whine as he continues to fuck you for as long as he can, despite your writhing hips, but you’re entranced by him, unable to look away now that you’re hooked. Until he slows to a halt, glances down at your mouth, and you just have time to pray that he’ll kiss you before he does. You whimper against his lips—a plea for understanding. A plea for him to stay, even though this is over. He kisses back so soft and sweet it’s like he can read your mind. Echoes of I’m here I’m here I’m here still buzz across your skin. His eyelashes tickle your cheek. Your heart stops beating quite so quickly, melting and warm like the rest of your body.

Soon the kissing ceases and you’re just breathing together, trapped and faced with the knowledge that it must end just the same as you had waited for it to start.

Eventually the air between you becomes mostly carbon dioxide and you let your head fall to the side, dizzy and giggling breathlessly as you nearly avoid asphyxiation. Spencer laughs too, letting his head fall to your shoulder once more, and you finally let your eyes flutter closed. To do something as simple as laugh with him again is its own small euphoria. It’s unexpected, and a soft landing once all that tension breaks underneath your combined weight.

It can’t last forever, you know that well. But the slow fade of it makes the next parts a little easier.

Spencer presses a kiss to your neck. “Is your bathroom through that door?”

You hum a confirmation and are only slightly disheartened when he pulls out and rolls off of you. You’re further disturbed when you see there’s gauze around his thigh, matching what’s around his arm, and you wonder how you missed that. Spencer scoops up his clothing and disappears into the adjoining restroom, assuring you he’ll be right back and leaving you alone with your thoughts and the whorls on the ceiling which have seemingly shifted into entirely new constellations.

He leaves the door cracked which is oddly reassuring—the sliver of warm light and the sound of the sink running. Only a few moments pass before he’s returning clad in boxers once more to sit on the edge of the bed, pushing away the sheet you’d just pulled over your chest and pulling one of your legs over his lap. Your face warms as he brings a washcloth between your thighs. As soon as he glances up at you and catches your eye you’re looking back to the ceiling.

“I should’ve asked first,” he says quietly as he cleans up the mess he’d made of you.

You speak just as softly, like you’re both afraid of disturbing some peace, of waking some sleeping giant. “It’s okay. I would’ve told you if I didn’t want it.”

His reticence, his unreadable face, make you nervous.

When he’s done, he rises to toss the dirtied cloth in the laundry bin, and with his back to you (as scratched up as it might be) you feel braver.

“Are you gonna, like... hate me now?”

It was a mistake. That’s clear by the way he turns around, brow knit deeply and grimacing slightly like even the suggestion offends him.

“Am I going to hate you?”

Again you pull the sheet up, and again you look away, studying the pattern of moonlight stretching out over the floor and scooting to make room for him when he steps in it.

“Not hate, I just...” the bed dips beside you and you are indescribably glad he’s not immediately running out the door. “I’m not dumb. I know what this was.”

He pulls you into him and you settle against his chest. It feels good. “I never thought you were dumb.”

This is your first real conversation since he’s gotten back, you realize. And how quickly you’re falling into familiar patterns, familiar syntactical beats. You know when to speak. You know when to bite your tongue and keep him talking.

The silence goes on longer than you’re used to. Maybe he got good at not speaking while he was away.

Eventually your eyes wander, falling to the white strip over his thigh where it is parallel to yours on the bed, only over the sheets.

“What happened?”

You said you wouldn’t ask, but that was then, and you’re upset again. You almost want to hurt him. To piss him off. You don’t know.

But it doesn’t work.

“Do you really want to know?” There’s a note of something heavy in his voice, and you look up at him. It’s a privilege to have him this close—his beauty is a constant surprise that you’d become unaccustomed to over the months. You say nothing, and he takes that as the yes that it is. “I... I did it to myself.”

He may as well have reached down your throat and grabbed for fucking heart for all its clenching. Tears well almost immediately, though they’ve been waiting in the wings all night.

“What? Did you—were you trying to—”

His eyes widen.

“No! No, honey, no.” You wilt as he gathers you closer, a deeply confused frown still contorting your features, too heartbroken even to cling to him, or to appreciate the ease with which honey slips past his lips again. “No. I was—it's complicated. I didn’t—I wasn’t trying to hurt myself, but I had to—I had to do it before someone else did something worse.”

The bruises covering his abdomen.

You sniffle and pull back enough to look up at him tearfully. “Why would they want to hurt you?”

Mist fills his eyes even as he’s looking down at you, a layer of separation, as if he’s two places at once. Even as he goes to brush your hair behind your ear, to stroke your cheek.

“I’m... not... the same, as I was.” It’s not an answer to your question—but it’s the beginning of the answer to a question you’d been too afraid to put into words.

“Don’t say that,” you beg, because you know where this is going. He keeps smoothing your hair like it’ll make this easier.

“But it’s true,” Spencer says gently, the slightest waver betraying his own emotion.

“You’re just going to leave again.”

And you’re losing to the tears.

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you will,” you insist, like a child crying to a parent come to comfort them after a bad dream.

“Not right now. Right now I’m here.”

I’ll stay until you fall asleep again.

For now, maybe that has to be enough. 

You cry on his shoulder. He kisses your head and doesn’t tell you to stop. 

Eventually, you sniff and wipe your eyes. 

“We were so close. Before you… we were almost there.”

You’re sure of it. You’re sure that if he hadn’t gone when he did you would’ve been a real couple. You would’ve told him you loved him. 

“We’ll get there again,” he promises, rubbing your arm. “I just… I need a little bit of time. I think you do too. But we’re going to get there again.”

Maybe it will never be like it was. 

But as so often is the case—Spencer is right. Difference doesn’t mean it won’t ever be good again. 

You have to believe that, just as you had to believe you’d see him again. 

You look to The Odyssey on your bedside table. 

The sun has been obliterated from the sky, and an unlucky darkness invades the world. 

But the sun has a habit of rising, time and time again, after the longest nights, after the darkest storms. 

You feel the beginnings of its rise, see the golden tips of it lighting the room as he holds you. Even now. 

[vashtijoy]

have you seen the commentary from the p5r artbook going around? the shuake part of my dash is losing it a bit at the implication that their wishes were mutual!!! that seems to be what some people are getting from the commentary at least… amy insights?

Hi! I have been through the artbook. It's great, isn't it? :D

The image above is called "One Ending", and the creator caption (by illustrator Akane Kabayashi) reads:

When I think about how Akechi's wish was to play chess after school with the protagonist, I almost want to call him out with "You liked him after all, didn't you!"

Look at that. We're told about Akechi's wish, and what it included. We're as good as told outright that he likes Joker—and this isn't the only time, there's also this:

—There are a whole lot of things we can imagine, based on how the protagonist was depicted as someone special to Akechi. Those are more or less the exact emotions represented during Akechi's confidant. (Mumon Usuda, chief designer)

"someone special" here is 特別な存在 tokubetsuna sonzai—literally "a special presence". It means a special person, and more than that; it describes someone you find compelling, someone you can't look away from, someone who becomes one of your most important people, the centre of your world. It's another term that is often romantic, but isn't necessarily romantic.

(In the same way, I think Kabayashi's suki jan! is more tongue-in-cheek than it is a cast-iron confirmation that Akechi was canonly in love with Joker. The language there is teasing, it's ambiguous, it's baity; Kabayashi is joking. This is a rank 6—as they say, if you know, you know. But it is of course ultimately up to all of you.)

There's another mention of this image, down in the creator interview:

Out of all the Maruki ending illustrations, it was Akechi's that stuck with me the most. It made such an impression to see them opening up as friends, having a fun, peaceful time together like high school students should. (Mumon Usuda, chief designer)

What really strikes me in all of this is the emphasis the creators put on the fact that this is Akechi's illustration, Akechi's wish. Because I've thought for a while that we know Akechi has a wish. You can see him struggling with his refusals to Maruki in the first week of January. And you can hear his wish spoken—when Maruki repeats it back to him, during the boss fight, on 2/3:

Maruki {F1 81}君たちとなら、君も過ちのない道を歩めるかも知れないじゃない��！ {F1 81}-kun-tachi to nara, kimi mo ayamachi no nai michi o ayumeru kamoshirenai ja nai ka! If you're with {F1 81}―kun and his friends, you could begin to atone for what you've done! Think about it! With [Amamiya]-kun and his friends beside you, you could choose a path with no mistakes as well!

So this wish has several parts. First, there's that kimi mo, "you also"; it's tempting to read this as Maruki also wanting his new world to erase his past mistakes. Second, there's the first part, "if you're with [Amamiya]-kun and his friends". Where to even start here?

Being with Joker and the others is a prerequisite for the second half of Akechi's wish. It doesn't just coexist, it enables the rest of it. Just like his words in the engine room, "I wonder why we couldn't have met a few years earlier, [Ren]..."

Remember, Akechi's whole arc is about his rejection of trust and friendship, and his insistence on doing everything himself. This is precisely what Futaba calls him out on—"you trusted no one", or "you played life in single-player mode". This is what he unlearns at the climax of the engine room, when he realises he isn't prepared to let the others die—and follows through to save them.

Akechi is nothing without others, and he knows it. Without their support, which he believes he has no right to, he has no hope of living a better life, even were he to be given the chance—and he knows that, too. He has learned, and he has grown—and yet he knows the things he needs and wants so badly are forever inaccessible.

And his wish is about all the Phantom Thieves, not just Joker. There are many tiny references to this end—not least the original Japanese rank 10 line for his confidant, where he sacrifices himself for all of you. Joker is his compelling presence, his someone special, but he's formed small bonds with the others too, God help him.

and then there's the crime thing

The localisation frames Akechi's wish in terms of atonement, but that's not what's on offer. You cannot, after all, atone for things you never did. We see Akechi's wish put into practice, in the Maruki ending, where he appears with his friends beside him, wholly innocent and with unstained hands. And we see it in the first week of January, after he has finally met Maruki and spoken to him:

Akechi: Ah, that reminds me—there was one more thing I wanted to tell you. Akechi: About the reality Maruki's put us in... Akechi: It seems that Okumura and Wakaba are both considered alive by all accounts. [Ren: They're not dead anymore? / What do you mean?] Akechi: They aren't mere illusions, or cognitive beings—they truly are alive and existing in this world. Akechi: In fact, their deaths seem to have never taken place at all in this reality. [Ren: What happened to Shido?] Akechi: Shido was the only one arrested on the crime of attempting to overthrow the government... Akechi: It seems the Phantom Thieves were causing a stir in this society as well, but there's no record of your arrest now. Akechi: Basically, in this reality, you and I haven't committed any crimes.

While Akechi still remembers his crimes, they never took place. They have been undone, and only his lingering memory—and Joker's, at this point—speaks to them. He objects to this on countless levels, he summons all the strength he has to refuse it, but don't make the mistake of thinking that means he doesn't want it. This is Akechi's wish in action.

People are often very certain that Akechi's resolve in the third semester is like iron—that he rejects Maruki's offers right away, is never tempted, never wavers. But that can't be true. We know he's afraid to die. We know about the bad end where you don't complete the Palace, where Akechi says nothing and stares at the floor, seemingly blaming himself internally while all the others blame themselves aloud, for being unable to say no to Maruki's temptations. We know how he responds to this assertion of Maruki's—Maruki, who has perfectly summed up what we know all the other PTs wanted, and who (even if Word of God hadn't just confirmed Akechi's wish) we have, honestly, no reason to doubt.

Because Akechi never refutes this wish that Maruki describes. He never says he doesn't want it. He just rejects it—like all the others, who so desperately want what Maruki could give them. Futaba's mother, Haru's father. Akechi's life, and his innocence. And the people who might have been his friends, if he could dare, one day, to ask.

Akechi is tested just like the others, and the price he pays for his defiance is perhaps the highest of all.

and finally

[The Maruki ending illustrations are] of Maruki's world, where everyone's wishes are granted and they seem happy. The scene shows their actualised wishes, which were never granted in the real world. (Mumon Usuda, chief designer)

We shouldn't forget the price Akechi pays for his impossible wish. Sure, the vision of himself being altered like Sumire clearly haunts him, and I'm sure it made the choice easier—but I don't think it made it that easy. Instead of taking the dream Maruki offered him, Akechi chose to face up to what he'd done, and who he'd become; at the very end, in the third semester and in the engine room, he always makes the right choice.

And that choice was taken away from him. Agency over his life and death, his own acts, and who he would even be—Joker and Maruki take it all away from him and make him a puppet, just like Shido.

Maruki's ending isn't pretty.

revision history

Click here for the latest version.

v1.0 (2024/03/29)—first published.

[shanastoryteller]

Shana, your tags on this post ...I need to know more! What exactly was the plan for Supernatural season 3 if it hasn't been for the writer's strike??? And how haven't I heard about this already?? I need the deets!

i'm so glad you asked :)

the original plan for season 3 was for sam to descend into using his demon powers to get dean out of the deal, and for dean to never go to hell. then the writers strike happened, the season got cut from 22 eps to 16, with only 4 after the strike, and that wasn't enough time to establish sam's spiral and powers, so changed the ending. it's on the wiki and there are some articles around about it

this was, in my opinion, the worst fucking decision they could make

it ruined the characters in a lot of ways and really unbalanced everything in a way the show never recovered from

the thing is that this arc is so well set up!

literally at the end of season 2 we get

"You're my big brother, there's nothing I wouldn't do for you. And I don't care, I'm going to get you out of this. I'm going to save your ass for a change."

sam has evaded azazel's every attempt to corrupt him. his shitty home life, all the demons he's exposed sam to, killing jessica, taking away his father, putting him in a literal life or death hunger games scenario. each time sam refuses to play ball

(sam's incorruptibility is what makes him qualified to be king of hell, but that's a different post)

he's the moral compass between him and dean. always has been. there is nothing in sam's messed up, twisted life that has pushed him pass mercy

but dean could do it. there's nothing sam wouldn't do for his big brother

john told dean that he had to either save sam or kill him. except he's never needed to save sam, because it's literally always sam making the measured, compassionate, merciful call. he's the one holding dean back, not the other way around

and sam straining towards darkness for the first time, for dean, would kill him. we'll come back to this

mystery spot, as an episode, is actually pointless if the plan was for dean to go to hell. because sam's sneak peek into what his life is like after dean doesn't do anything. i love this ep, but it's narratively pointless now

however

with the og plan, mystery spot is the turning point. it not only tells sam how miserable he'll be after dean is gone, but it also establishes what he's willing to do to get him back - pretty much anything. it's not theoretical pain, it's not theoretical grief. mystery spot is the thing that pushes sam towards being hard, away from the moral sweetness he's embodied for the past two and half seasons.

the next ep, jus in bello, shows this. sam is considering doing the terrible thing. he's now capable of considering the terrible thing in a way he wasn't before mystery spot. this is when his descent starts, when sam decides he's willing to trade his humanity for his brother's life

and then the writer's strike happened

right when it's getting good, right when sam's arc is ramping up, we lose it. and instead of picking it back up, pushing dean's deal to next season and giving it the weight it deserves, they say fuck it, and send dean to hell

but this fucks it all up. we have sam's "descent" with ruby and demon blood. except not really because he's not even hurting anyone. and dean's back, but not because of sam. sam didn't save him

this fucks it all up

because deans anger and fear and desire to save sam should have been tempered with the knowledge that he did that to save dean's life. that once more someone dean loves has made a terrible sacrifice for him, which he can't stand, which he hates. he has the self esteem of a gnat and the best people he knows keep destroying themselves for his benefit

i think the og build up was sam strengthening his powers to kill lilith, doing it, and then releasing lucifer at the end of s3. sam unwittingly starting the apocolypse to save his brother (does he regret it, dean wonders. it would be easier if he did)

and now everything is shit and dean's drowning but here and his brother has turned himself into something that's not unlike the kid dean loves so much it almost killed him, but not exactly the same. and now he understands john, because this is the sam that dean has to either save or kill, except he could never kill him. he loves him (and how can he kill sam for doing this when it's dean's fault, when dean made the deal that doomed his brother when all he wanted was to save him)

this is the flip that the show has been building towards. dean having to be the moral center for his brother for once. dean being the one saved. dean finally having to face his father's words and deciding once and for all if he's john's son or sam's brother

but instead dean goes to hell. and he's no one moral's center. because he broke in hell, he tortured people and he enjoyed it. they ruined dean with this. because instead of fighting and growing from his violence, they push him into it, and then they call him a righteous man. dean was the one harming people, he's the one that descended into darkness, not sam. sam and his demon blood had still only been trying to good, and in the end did do good, far more than anything dean did in hell, or has done since. his moral outrage, his anger, his disgust towards sam isn't only wildly out of character, it's hypocritical as hell. sam remains the moral, compassionate one, even through this. it never slides to dean. neither of them are really forced to grow or change, only to become twisted into each other in ways that hurt them both

this should have been the story of what sam would do to save his brother (anything) and what dean would do to save his brother (anything)

they should have saved each other

[linkspooky]

If there's a next time, maybe I'll change how I live...

Sukuna's last moment in the manga ends with him accepting that his loss, and showing even the strongest of all time Sukuna, someone powerful enough to do what he wants, when he wants, could not only lose but he could be wrong. This is something considering that you could make an argument that the entire manga, and sorcerer society as a whole is shaped around Sukuna's morality of the pursuit of selfish desire and strength of all else. In fact someone else argues it right here.

What led to this journey of the most irredeemable character in the comics who lived only for selfish pleasure acknowledging the love he rejected in the end? Well, we'll cover that under the cut.

The Cycle

Before analyzing Shinjuku as a whole, I want to start with its conclusion. I'll first break down the final moment in Sukuna's character arc, and then go back to the start and analyze how we got there. That being said, let's get on with it.

Sukuna loss begins with him contradicting his own nature. I'll explain what I mean by this. If you read the thread above, detective_critics observes characters like Sukuna who live for themselves and characters who embody Sukuna's ideals like Gojo are rewarded in the manga whereas characters like Yuji who fight primarily for others are punished relentlessly.

This is well supported by Yuji's continual losses throughout the manga. Yuji swallows Sukuna's fingers in order to permanently execute Sukuna and stop future people from being harmed by curses, but because of Yuji's decision to swallow the finger thousands die in Shibuya. Yuji's desire to save others only seems to backfire and he's continually presented with those he can't save, Junpei, Nanami, Nobara. He's even robbed of his own purpose of being Sukuna's vessel when Sukuna takes Megumi's body instead.

I mostly agree with this idea that the manga rewards people more true to their desires like Sukuna and Gojo, but I'd like to add an addendum that the manga doesn't specifically reward selfishness, but rather self-actualization.

To backtrack slightly, Sukuna observes that many sorcerers in the past have faced him but they didn't truly believe in their ideals the way that Yuji did. Yuji is punished by the narrative yes, but he's not unceremoniously killed off the way that Toji, and Mahito are. Rather, Yuji's durability, his ability to cling to life instead of just dying off like Sukuna suggests weak people should do comes from the fact that his ideal is unshakable.

Let's look at Sukuna's words a little more closely. He says that many sorcerers killed him in the past and they all had different ideals, but none of them truly believed in their ideals. Because Sukuna could so easily point out how their idealism was false he came to think of all ideals as worthless. This is shown in the way that he easily picks apart both Gojo and Hajime, two characters who lose because they ultimately don't believe in their own ideals. Sukuna is very easily able to point out the hypocrisy in both of them.

Sukuna basically points out that Kashimo and Gojo were both happy to bully anyone who came near them, they'll throw around their power all they like and revel in their own superiority and then go back and complain about being lonely. A classic case of wanting to have your cake and eat it too, or as Sukuna said they were being greedy. They were the ones who rejected everyone around them, they were the ones who rejected the love they were shown, and yet they put the blame on everyone else.

Gojo even in death acts like everyone else is a flower, an inferior being incapable of understanding him. Yet, a few panels later he says that the fight with Sukuna the only person who rivaled him in strength and therefore shouldn't be able to understand him didn't satisfy him, and he would only have been satisfied if Geto were there.

These two statements contradict each other. The thing is, Gojo has at this point long surpassed Geto in strength. People often clown Geto on the fact that he never had a domain expansion, and that Kenjaku seemed to use his cursed technique far better than he ever could. Geto is someone who's far behind Gojo in strength, and yet he's the one who could satisfiy Gojo, not Sukuna. Which means Gojo was the one who was wrong. Gojo was betraying his ideals. He believed he was living to be the strongest, that he was satisfied being the strongest while all along wanting something else and it's that contradiction that killed him.

Let me make a brief comparison to another manga. Aizen from Bleach is a character with a god complex to rival Gojo's, and just like Gojo exists on a different level of power than everyone else. He is not only the strongest soul reaper, but one of the smartest, and has been isolated by that strength since he was a child. Aizen then believes that he needs to become god, because it's his right as a naturally superior being, but Aizen is a fraud.

Aizen loses becuase the hogyoku the source of his power rejected him right as he seemed to be at the peak of his power. However, Ichigo reflects that maybe the Hogyoku didn't reject him. The Hogyoku is in plot, a wish granting macguffin, that grants your subconscious desire. Ichigo speculates that maybe Aizen didn't truly want to ascend to godhood, but rather he wanted someone like Ichigo to defeat him. That he wanted an equal like Ichigo so he wouldn't have to be alone on the top anymore. Aizen not being fully aware of this desire and clinging to his sense of superiority instead, the very thing that makes him lonely is what causes him to lose. Aizen is cut down by Ichigo, and instead of becoming a god he becomes just another soul reaper.

Sukuna cuts through Gojo by cutting through the world, bypassing the infinity, and therefore making him just like everyone else. Just as Aizen wished to be just another soul reaper, Gojo becomes just another sorcerer now that his position of the strongest has been taken by Sukuna.

So Gojo's loss came when he betrayed his ideals. His stated ideal of "I am the strongest", but this was contradicted by what he really wanted which was the time of his life when him and Geto together said "We are the Strongest." Strength didn't satisfy him, but rather it was Geto and Gojo's inability to realize the real reason he was fighting leads to his loss.

The manga doesn't reward selfishness, but rather self-actualization. Characters with a strong sense of self are just more likely to be self-actualized, because they possess a deep sense of self awareness.

Sukuna at least is self-aware. He knows you can't be the strongest, to relentlessly bully others with your power and yet want to be close to other people too. He knows that's wanting to have your cake and eat it too, so he rejects love. Sukuna knows you can't have it both ways, so he decides I don't need love, love won't satisfy me, I'll live only to be the strongest.

My main example of a character betraying their ideals is Toji though.

Toji moves to face a newly awakened Gojo. He has not only a solid plan to fight him, curse tools that can penetrate his infinity, but he's also got inside knowledge of the Limitless. Toji believes he can win, and yet at the same time he feels uneasy.

As he died, Toji reflects that the reason he died is because he deviated from his true self. He believed that he was jumping from job to job, just working for money. That he didn't care about the sorcerer world. He killed sorcerers, got paid, and then gambled it all away.

Yet, when he was faced with the pinnacle of Jujutsu his motivation changed from living to fulfill his own selfish desires, to revenge. Toji wasn't as over the way the Zen'in Clan rejected him as he thought he was. He needed to defeat Gojo in order to affirm himself, and the moment he betrayed his own ideals like that he lost.

Now this moment can be directly paralleled back to Sukuna, who feels a similiar unease the entire time that he's fighting Yuji, an unease that makes him more and more irrational over the course of the fight.

Sukuna betrays his ideals in two ways, one that he's never once cared what other sorcerers think and say and lives only for himself and two that he is merely killing time before he dies. The first leads to his breakdown over the fight as he tries to crush Yuji, but finds himself unable to. The second is as I said above the final nail in the coffin.

When faced with a stronger opponent, or rather opponents as the sorcerers of the modern era all work together to trump the sorcerer of the golden age of sorcerery Sukuna doesn't accept his death. In his last moments he's clinging desperately to Megumi, trying to keep living in his body. At which point Megumi remarks that even someone like Sukuna must fear death too.

You could connect this to Mahito too. Many people even said that Sukuna got the Mahito treatment. Both characters lived freely slaughtering everyone else, and yet when they are about to be killed they try and run away from it. This is obviously deliberate as not only do the words "You are Me' parallel "I am you" but Sukuna's last moment in the manga is a conversation with Mahito.

Mahito also betrayed his ideal. Number one curses don't truly die, Jogo and Hanami and Dagan all accept their deaths because they'll be reborn as different curses but they'll always come back. However, Mahito clings to his own existence. Mahito is also not true to his nature, because he longs to be a true curse, but Mahito is also the most human curse. He's the representative of the fear and hate humans have for one another, and he spends his last moments terrified of the human being known as Yuji Itadori.

Which is why Mahito is appropriate to have this final conversation with Sukuna. Mahito calls out the way Sukuna betrayed his ideals. Sukuna always believed he was only living to satisfy himself and he didn't care what others thought, but Mahito points out that he was really living for revenge towards the people who rejected that unlovable wretch. Sukuna wasn't rejecting people because he was a god towering far above others, but because he had been rejected and hated in the past and then decided to hate them in turn.

However, unlike Mahito Sukuna is able to grow up so to speak. Mahito doesn't want to be anything else but Sukuna comes to the realization that you can choose your nature. That the decision to hate and reject everyone was a choice, and that he can choose a different path in another life.

You define who you are, that is the literal definition of self actualization. So we see Sukuna having become enlightened about himself escape the cycle, whereas Mahito who's still a curse is still trapped in that cycle. Something that Mahito complains about, that he's just a child unable to grow up while even Sukuna has changed.

Escaping the Cycle

Now that I've shown you how Sukuna has changed, I'm going to go over all of Shinjuku to describe the events that led to this change. This change is brought about everyone, but most of all by Yuji Itadori someone who unlike Sukuna reached self-realization. Yuji is the one who remains true to himself, whereas Sukuna who has only lived for himself is the one who betrays himsellf in the end.

The first hint that Sukuna may not entirely believe his own words comes in his conversation with Kashimo. Sukuna lives for his own self-satisfaction, other people exist for him to amuse himself until he dies. Since he's a complete being who doesn't need anyone else to satisfy him, since he's satisfied then why did he need to divide himself into twenty parts and keep living after death.

Sukuna doesn't answer this quesiton, but rather just continues on with his monologue. If life to Sukuna is just killing time until he dies then why does he go above and beyond to prolong his life? Why not accept his natural death?

Then after quickly dispatching Higuruma, Sukuna finds himself unsatisfied. Even though he was doing exactly what Kashimo told him, he was tasting an interesting sorcerer and swallowing him whole.

Sukuna doesn't feel satisfied in his victory. At first he thinks it's just because Higuruma lost too early, and then he realizes that his current disatisfaction comes from Yuji. Sukuna doesn't care what others think, he hates the concept of ideals themselves, at yet the same time Yuji holding an unbreakable ideal bothers him. If Sukuna is being true to himself, then he shouldn't care what Yuji believes in.

Yet, Sukuna changes for the first time in a thousand years. He acquires a new ideal and that's killing every sorcerer present and then initating the merger. Something that Kusakabe even notes is out of character for Sukuna. He thought Sukuna wouldn't have a need to start the merger, he doesn't care about big picture things like Kenjaku he just wants to strong opponent.

Sukuna begins to drift further and further from his nature because of Yuji over the course of the fight. As I said Sukuna shouldn't have to fight Yuji to prove that Yuji's ideal is wrong. If he rejects all ideologies then he shouldn't even care. Yet the things that set Sukuna off the most in the fight, the things that motivate him to fight the hardest to crush his enemy are people like Yuji and Maki who challenge his beliefs. Yuji by fighting for others instead of himself, and Maki by rejecting cursed energy entirely and instead having a strong body to fight.

Sukuna who is supposed to be completely satisfied with himself, has something to prove when fighting against these opponents. We learn that Yuji isn't just some boring child like Sukuna suggested. He's actually made from the other half of Sukuna's soul. Rather, Sukuna rejected his twin and ate him in the womb. All of his superiority as a sorcerer, his four arms, the mouth on his stomach comes from this. However, that twin didn't disappear, he reincarnated and mated with Kenjaku to produce Yuji.

So Sukuna is Yuji's uncle technically, but symbolically, Yuji is the other half of his soul. The half that Sukuna rejected. How can Sukuna be someone at peace with all of himself, if he rejects half of himself? It goes along with what Mahito said, Sukuna didn't reject others because he was compeltely satisfied with living alone, but because of revenge. He was born a malformed retch and never shown love so he rejected all forms of love.

Sukuna is not at ease with himself because he's not whole. Yuji represents the love that Sukuna rejectected. Rejecting yourself doesn't work though, because one he tried to reject his twin and his twin's soul reincarnted, and two rejecting yourself is completely at odds with the complete self-acceptance that Sukuna preaches is the source of his strength.

Sukuna's incessant need to reject Yuji, to prove that Yuji is wrong, that he's inferior is what leads to his demise. Not only that, but Sukuna's rejection of Yuji's method of fighting, relying on his allies leaves him blind to several elements of Yuta's strategy. He falls for the copy technique bluff twice, because Sukuna didn't factor that both the original users Angel and Toge could still use their techniques too. He's beaten by the cooperation that Yuta uses in his strategy, because Sukuna rejects that same kind of cooperation and sees it as a weakness.

Sukuna's proven to be wrong. He told Jogo that working with others limits your individual strength and he should have tried fighting on his own, but Sukuna is continually outfoxed by Yuta's strategy which relies entirely on team coordination.

It's also a direct parallel to the way that Gojo lost in Shibuya. Gojo was absolutely infuriated that the curses would work together to fight him and they'd rely on a strategy instead of just overpowering him with brute strength. But Gojo lost, precisely because they made a strategy around Gojo's exact weakness, that he's strongest when he's alone.

If Sukuna didn't feel the need to reject the others, then he wouldn't be so blind to Yuta's way of fighting with strategy and cooperation. If he could accept other ways of thinking other than his own he wouldn't have been hoodwinked multiple times in the fight. Yet, it isn't just Sukuna rejecting them on principle, he has to reject companionship otherwise the curses and hatred churning inside of him would burn him up inside. So Sukuna isn't really choosing his nature as he believes, but rather he's a slave to it.

There's also parts where Sukuna just straight up lies. He says he feels nothing, and yet two panels later he's completely enraged.

You could say that Sukuna is just saying he feels nothing about Yuji's attempts to empathize with him, but that's not the case. He definitely feels something, because that empathy, or rather pity as Sukuna frames it compeltely infuriates him.

if Sukuna lived entirely according to his own desires and didn't care about the opinions of others, as he stated a hundred times above why does Yuji's pity infuriate him? If he was so confident in his godlike superiority to others, why does he feel the need to prove it, by ripping apart all of Yuji's friends right in front of it in a gesture of revenge for being pitied.

This leads to what is the greatest moment of growth for Yuji, and the greatest moment of stagnation for Sukuna. Yuji's moment of growth isn't just in rejecting the cog mentality, but also in accepting Megumi. Specifically, he accepts the fact that Megumi is different than him, that it's alright if Megumi's not strong enough to keep living.

Sukuna is compelled by his own nature, his desire for revenge to reject everything around him, but the conclusion of Yuji's character arc is defined by acceptance. Not only does he accept that Megumi's own feelings are different than his, but he's willing to accept Sukuna back into his soul.

I don't think Yuji empathizes with Sukuna. He still doesn't understand him. However, in spite of that lack of understanding, he's willing to accept Sukuna into his soul and keep living with him, because as I said above Yuji and Sukuna are two halves of the same soul. Sukuna is the embodiment of everything he hates, someone who carelessly disregards life and hurts others with a thought, and yet Yuji is willing to give a second chance to that person.

In that moment Yuji lives true to his ideal of saving people, whereas by clinging to life Sukuna was betraying his ideal. I think it's important that Yuji didn't empathize with Sukuna though because Yuji and Sukuna might be two halves but they're meant to represent opposites.

Sukuna also had to learn to accept that Yuji was different than him. He spent the entire story trying to reject him and step on him like a bug. If Sukuna were truly confident in his ideals he wouldn't care that other people had different thoughts, but no Yuji had to be wrong.

Yuji doesn't empathize with Sukuna but he does change him. He alters Sukuna's fundamental nature "You are me" by showing Sukuna there was a different path he could have taken all along. That Sukuna wasn't the strongest he could be, that someone could have compeltely different ideals and be stronger.

Uraume says that the main characters didn't win because they were stronger, but because Sukuna was in Megumi's body a thousand years later instead of his own original body. Which basically means that Sukuna being a parasite in the modern era, pointlessly extending his life is exactly what led to his defeat because he couldn't accept his own death.

I think it's significant that it's not Yorozu or Yuji who Sukuna finally decides to accept as someone he can love, but Uraume. Sukuna even references there were people who tried to teach him about love in life. Assuming the one on the right in Yorozu, the way both uraume and Yorozu approach their relationship with Sukuna is compelte opposites.

Yorozu in the end seemed to recognize Sukuna's isolation, but she projected her desires onto him entirely like everyone else in the manga. Yorozu, Gojo, Kashimo, they don't seek to understand Sukuna but rather to make him understand then. They're in the end kind of self-serving in their love, making Sukuna into a symbol. Specifically Gojo and Kashimo project their loneliness onto Sukuna when Sukuna never asked for it. I mean if you want an example Gojo says this in his dying dream.

Yet, moments later Sukuna declares that Gojo Satoru cleared his skies. That he would never forget his name. Sukuna was completely satisfied with the fight, Gojo just didn't understand him.

Ironically, the one who Sukuna finally shows love to is the one who never bothered to try teaching love to Sukuna in the first place. Ura Ume spends the entire time at Sukuna's side, and while they seem to have more of a servant master relationship I'd argue that Ura Ume has a better read on Sukuna than anyone else. They can tell when Sukuna is enjoying himself, they can tell when Sukuna is holding back, they don't ever try to make Sukuna into something he's not they just stay by his side and accept them.

Sukuna's final scene in the manga is a deliberate callback to this scene. Jogo begins to cry and Sukuna says he doesn't undertand the reason why Jogo is crying. Immediately afterwards, UraUme appears in front of him.

Then, in their final scene together Sukuna is shown musing on how two people showed him there were different ways of living, Uraume and Yorozu. As he decides to go north, and become someone new as Mei Mei once put it in the going north and going south metaphor, he holds Ura Ume's hand and comforts him as he cries.

There are two people in the manga who showed Sukuna unconditional acceptance, Yuji and Uraume. Through them Sukuna was finally able to accept his own humanity.

So in conclusion: Sukume canon!

[somepinkthing]

Since I'm getting back into comics, ig this is where I admit that I didn't get the tim drake hype until I read jason's return arc and damian's intro to the family? As in, it wasn't his own content that caught my eye but instead the way he was treated when seen through someone else's pov. Because ppl were always talking abt how much he was asked to put up with and I didn't not believe it but I was like well yeah but that's being robin for ya. BUT THEN the guy literally has two people try to kill him??? Only for his own family to essentially expect him to get over it?? And the general fandom agreement is that he should??? AND THEN HE JUST DOES?? And then I read Red Robin(2009), where we find out that he still considers damian dangerous and isn't totally over the whole almost-being-assasinated thing...and the response from both canon and fandom is that he should have gotten over it harder??? That he should apologize for not doing so?????

Not to mention, dick and jason both lost their minds when they found out that robin had been picked up by someone else only for dick to give it away right in front of tim's face, while he was still using the title!!! And his reason was "tim will be fine" and was super shocked when he wasn't!!! Dick babe ilu but im ngl, I would be lacing ur shit with arsenic. In fact, if I almost died multiple times only for my own family to focus more on the emotional wellbeing of my would-be-murderer than me? I'm blowing the whole place up idgaf what the circumstances were (hi jason). But tim just. Doesn't? Like he's majorly understanding and that's treated as normal.

To top it all off, the entirety of damian's and jason's arcs gives tim like two sentences even though their early interactions with him were major stepping stones for the start of both of their arcs! Which, when you think about it, mirrors how his stint as robin both started and ended—like he was just some stepping stone until the "real" robin came around and picked it back up. And you can't expect me to not be facinated by a dude getting the "girl getting in the way of the canon couple" treatment.

The majorly gay and about one canon event from losing the plot thing was just the cherry on top.

TLDR tim drake is my girliepop and will have my full support whenever he decides to finally lose it

[carlyraejepsans]

UTY!Flowey, "lore" and how to criticize a fan prequel without being an insufferable pedantic, a guide by Biscia.

(for my muskless fellows, here's a transcript of my thread on Undertale Yellow that I posted on Twitter. enjoy!)

There's this really frustrating attitude in fan spaces i like to call "lorepilling" where people are substantially more concerned with encyclopedic knowledge of details & minutiae (so called "lore") in place of full-text thematic/narrative analysis as if the two are mutually interchangeable.

It's especially common in large franchises and story heavy videogames, and it's like... Are You Treating This Piece Of Art Like A Trivia Battle Or Are You Treating It Like A Story

This is coming from a person who is also deeply autistic about UTDR trivia btw, I'm just saying that when it comes to transformative *stories*, depending on the impact it has on character, themes, and narrative structure... lore is expendable.

Ultimately this is why most of the UTY criticism i see (on twitter specifically) falls flat. What does it matter if "lore" means Flowey couldn't chronologically be there when the justice human fell, as long as the game narratively justified his presence in the story in a compelling way?

The real criticism, in the end, is that it didn't.

He's a plot central, main cast character from the canon returning in a cast of mostly OCs and what does he have to show for it? An admittedly sick boss battle in 1/3 endings, sure but... not much else. He has no significant "presence" in the story, no tie, interaction, or even just... an opinion on the rest of the cast. Which is a huge miss when Flowey's meta role is to be Thee completionist player mirror. He's the OG lorepilled UT fan! He's an opinionated little shit!

This isn't to say that UTY *didn't* engage w/ his metanarrative. When me and @a-town-called-hometown first started playing the game (we were both skeptical of Flowey's inclusion), he immediately said "It would be really cool if they made it so this has been going on for a while and Clover has no idea". Which is precisely what the game did in the neutral ending, and what I will openly say was the most well written & well executed part of this game's story...

...a part we almost didn't see, because the pacifist ending disappointed us so much we lost all will to replay.

To put it in the words of my friend Mel @clowwwnbytes, there's a deafening hollowness to UTY Flowey's motivations & core principles where his guilt towards Chara—and resulting black and white thinking—should be. You're telling me Mr Kill-or-be-killed, "sacrificing yourself to do the right thing is stupid", would stand there after 1000s of failed attempts to make Clover survive, look on as they make the same mistake Asriel he did, and fondly call them friend? Cue the guitar, roll the credits?

He would lose it. Oh my god he would lose his goddamn mind, he would throw the nastiest temper tantrum in the world. Are you serious? How dare you. How DARE you. All this effort, all my patience, and you just let yourself DIE for a few worthless idiots? I should've let you ROT!

*clears throat* sorry got a bit too into character. as i was saying.

I can understand a UT prequel wanting to distance itself from the canon Chara storyline in order to form its own identity, but then turning around and choosing Insane About Chara The Character™ for a sidekick is... far from optimal. In the end, Flowey comes across as underutilized and inconsistent, with a whole lot of wasted potential.

This is an issue I have with UTY's character writing (original AND returning) and story structure as a whole. Lots of inconsistent character arcs, tonal dissonance, overuse of situational sadness... it's an amateurish work, after all, and you can feel it. There's no shame in that.

(Though, there ARE some issues that i take more seriously with its writing, especially when it comes to its two main female characters—Ceroba's lack of narrative agency and depth borders on misogynistic writing imo. But that's a topic for another day)

Over all, UTY was an incredible piece of collaborative transformative work, with gorgeous art and a genuinely incredible OST, which... would have benefited from more experienced writers. But hey, you can only ever learn by trying!

For all it could've been a better story, it certainly did not fail to entertain: both when my friend was playing it, and after in our many discussions of its writing, its faults and how it could've been improved (royal scientist!ceroba character fix you will always be famous. to ME!)

I'm sure this project served as an incredible source of experience for the developers: as individual creators AND as a team. I look forward to their future projects!

but also if i have to see another person say UTY is better than Undertale i might turn into The Jonker.

end of the essay! really couldn't stand any of the pedantic ""criticism"" I'd seen of this fangame so far, so i had to say my piece as someone more versed in analysis. happy to elaborate on anything in the replies or in my inbox!

[kkyaka]

Summary: Shinsou Hitoshi, a vigilante with the goal of exposing the corruption of the hero world, meets you, and that causes tornado of events that spins your life around

Pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi x black!fem!reader

Word Count: 27, 459 (i'm so sorry)

Warnings: vigilante!shinsou, stripper!reader, miruko is reader's boss, reader's followed by a man briefly in the beginning, some innuendos, reader's quirk is half and half, kind of a slow burn if you squint, mentions of shindou x reader, lot of sexual tension in the beginning between reader and shinsou, mentions of blood and injuries, reader's father is a pro hero but didn't treat her or her mother well, lots of kissing, strip tease, usage of weed, orgasms under the influence of weed, so much smut LMFAO, shinsou gets hit with an aphrodisiac (everything is consensual), groping, fingering (f), oral (f + m), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, unprotected sex, grinding, 69ing, reader has a confrontation with her father, shinsou knocks out reader's father, shinsou's really big and hairy LMFAO, little bit of an argument between shindou and reader, deku makes and appearance, bakusquad works with shinsou, canon divergent kinda (takes place after the Paranormal Liberation Arc), mentions of things being blown up, lots of angst at the end with a happy ending (*sighs* i think that's it, if I missed anything let me know!)

A/N: Another long one boys, so sorry about that. Another favorite of mine lmfao, and I was also ridiculously horny while I was writing this LMFAO, so yeah. Thank you for reading if you can make it through this long ass fic, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

You yawn loudly as you step out of the building, shoving your hands in your jacket pockets as you walk. You finished later than you wanted, but money needs to be made, so you're leaving a little after two in the morning. The moon and streetlights allows for enough light so that you can see pretty far ahead of you. You wonder if you should hit up the convenience store on your way home for some food, and you briefly falter when you hear footsteps behind you.

You roll your eyes, wondering why this night, in particular, might be the one where you're fighting for your life. You don't let the person behind you know that you've heard them, but you need to figure out what to do quickly because you don't want to lead them to your house. It's practically a straight shot from where you work, but you don't want to risk them following you home another night.

An alley's coming up, and you hope that you can catch the person off-guard. You can hear their footsteps speed up once you make it about halfway down the alley and right as they try to break out into a sprint toward you, you quickly turn around, activating your quirk out of your hands. The force throws them against the wall, and you immediately harden it, keeping them against the wall.

You groan loudly in annoyance when you finally see who it is even though their face is just barely lit by the streetlight. "We've told you about this, Kenji," you sigh. You know this man all too well, and the fact that you've caught him again makes you sick. He has a history of harassing the women that you work with, even following them home. Mirko is very aware of his behavior, at first banning him from any private shows, but then she quickly banned him altogether.

Of course, that didn't seem to stop him, but there was only so much she could do. You've always been able to stop him, but some of your friends don't have the best luck, so they always go home together. "You know I don't mean any harm," he tries, but you don't believe his bullshit.

"I'm not fucking stupid. You're following me home, you fucking creep." You grab your phone, wondering if you should even try and call for someone to get him. Once most of them figure out what you do for work, the judgmental looks start, and they become either less willing to help or more willing for a price. It's a lose-lose, and you're about to just walk away when you hear something hit the ground right next to you.

You lift your arms up, getting ready to shoot them as well, but something's wrapped around your arms before you can even shoot. They're suddenly tied together, and you struggle against the restraints. "Relax, sweetheart. I'm not gonna hurt you."

You don't back down right away, only calming down as he slowly walks toward you. He immediately lets go of your arms, pulling the wraps back to him, and you can see they're sitting around his neck. "Can I help you?" you wonder. You can only see his eyes, his head covered with a hood and his face covered with some mask.

"It seemed like this guy was bothering you." You raise an eyebrow at him. "But you clearly have everything under control."

"So, why are you here?" you question, putting your hand on your hip. "Matter of fact, where did you come from?"

"I can take care of him for you," he says, ignoring your question as he steps toward you. You back up a little, and he's gently pushing you out of the alley. "How am I supposed to get him out of this?" You squint at him, but release the guy from the wall, the material turning into a kind of liquid.

Kenji tries to run for you, but the mystery man wraps him up before he can even get away from the wall. "Give me a second yeah?" he tells you, and he throws him over his shoulder before he scales the side of the wall, disappearing into the dark roof.

You stand there, looking at the now empty alley for a couple of seconds before you shake your head, throwing your hands up. You just want to go home. You're too tired for any of this. You continue your journey home, not even wanting to process the events that just happened until you're home in your bed.

"You're still going to try and walk home alone?" You hear the familiar voice, but it's definitely not coming from in front or behind you. You look around before you look up, seeing him crouching on the corner of the top of a building. He jumps down once you locate him, stopping in front of you, and now that you're back on the street, you can see the color of his eyes.

"I've dealt with him before, and I can handle myself." You continue walking, and he falls into step right next to you. "He'll probably be back anyway."

"You don't have to worry about him anymore."

You look over him as you walk. "And how are you so confident in that?"

"Trust me. He won't be bothering you anymore."

"You're telling me to trust a stranger?" you jest, and even though you can't see the lower half of his face, the way the skin around his eyes crinkle tells you that he's got some version of a smile on his face.

"You can trust this stranger," he counters, placing his hand on his chest.

"So, what brings you out here at this time of night, stranger?" you ask playfully.

"It's a secret," he answers, lowering his voice a little as he leans down to talk to you. "But I could be asking you the same thing," he continues as he stands straight up again.

"I'm getting off work, and don't bother asking what I do," you immediately add, not wanting to go through that conversation right now.

"Noted," he says. "Where you headed?" he asks after the both of you are silent after a while.

"Heading home." You look ahead before you look at him. "How do I know you're not a threat or something?"

"Wouldn't I have done something already if I was?"

"Maybe you're trying to see where I live, or maybe you're just trying to get my guard down," you claim, and he stops walking when you do. "And I don't trust you enough to show you where I live."

"Until next time then."

"What makes you so sure there'll be a next time?" He just gives you a shrug before he starts walking the opposite way, backtracking. You watch him until he disappears, and you shake your head again before you start walking to your apartment.

"So, he walked you home? Was he really attractive?" You shake your head as you laugh, finishing up your makeup. Amina was one of the first people you met here, and she's been your best friend ever since. You both come from a similar childhood, so it's nice to have someone that can understand what you've gone through.

"I couldn't even see his face," you say. "And he didn't walk me to my door exactly. He might've helped me, but I wasn't gonna let him see where I live."

"And what about that creep? Is he really not gonna bother us anymore?"

"Dunno," you answer with a shrug. "I guess we'll just have to see."

The night goes smoothly without any hitches, and it starts to feel monotonous after a while. You've been doing this for a couple of years, and sometimes you want to divert on a different path, but there's a part of you that likes the repetition. It gives you a sense of security that you know what you're going to do throughout the day.

Honestly, you never really had an idea of what you wanted to do when you grew up because your father already had a path made for you before you were even born. It didn't take you long to see how corrupt the hero society actually was, especially since you were at the hands of it at such an early age. Your dad didn't treat you or your mother right, and she ended up leaving once she could.

You knew that she would've taken you with her if she could, but you don't blame her for getting out of there as soon as possible. Your dad ran you into the ground with training day after day, trying to solidify your abilities to use your quirk. The entire time though, you were plotting how you were going to escape from this. Once you finally turned eighteen, you just left. You were still in contact with your mother, but you didn't tell her that you were leaving so suddenly.

She wasn't anywhere near home anymore, so there was no way she could come get you. You were couch hopping for a couple of years, some of your friends had their own places you could crash at, and you worked odd jobs here and there. But that couldn't last long, and Mirko was suddenly picking you up before you could end up on the wrong side of the street.

She gave you work and a place to call home, which took you a little bit to get used to, but the friendships you created made it so much smoother. Your dad had been looking for you for a while, but then you never heard anything from him again. With him being in the top twenty pro-heroes, you always heard about him on TV or in the news, but you didn't think twice about it. He went on pretending that you didn't exist, treating you like a mistake since you didn't become the hero that he wanted you to be.

This obviously isn't where you saw yourself, but it gives you a powerful feeling that you didn't have when you were still with your dad. And your apartment is actually a really nice set-up, and you're making money. If anything, you're glad that Mirko found you when she did, and she also goes to lengths to make sure you and your friends are protected at work as well.

Private shows are always a little unsettling especially when the person is treading the line of being weird or off-putting. With your quirk, you could try and stop a situation from escalating, but if you're not fast enough, it could do from bad to worse in a second. There are no cameras in the rooms, but you all wear a necklace that detects sudden movements or if your heart rate begins to rise suddenly, and if you can manage, there's a button on it that immediately alerts the bouncers if there's something wrong.

Sadly, all of you have had to use it on more than one occasion, but you know that you'll never see that person again and that they won't harm any of you again. You all usually get breaks for as long as you want if something like that does happen and even if it doesn't. If you just need a break, Mirko is always understanding, and you've taken them on more than one occasion, especially when you first started working.

You finish the night with ease, and you decide to shower in your dressing room before you head home. You stuff all of your tips in your bag once you're done and dressed, checking in with Mirko before you head out of the back door. "You sure you don't want me to walk you home?" Shindou asks once you step outside.

You shake your head as you chuckle. "I'm sure. I can handle myself, I promise."

"Let me know when you get home, okay?" he relents, and you give him a nod before you walk off.

The walk isn't long, but you still check your surroundings as you walk, making sure you're keeping track of everything you're hearing. It doesn't take you long to feel like you're being watched, and you finally stop walking, looking up and turning in a circle as you look in the direction of the rooftops.

Something falls behind you, and you lazily turn around. "This kinda feels like stalking," you muse, letting your head fall to the side as the mystery man walks closer to you.

"I'm just making sure nothing happens to you on the way home," he replies with an easy shrug, and you turn around to continue towards your apartment as he walks with you.

"Really? You sure you don't have any ulterior motives?"

"Even if I said I didn't, you probably still wouldn't believe me." You look over him, realizing that his shoulders are no longer covered, and it really shows you how big he is.

"What happened to your...?" you trail off, circling your finger around his neck and chest area.

"I don't need it tonight." He holds out his hands. "Wanted to show you that I really mean you no harm."

You hum, squinting a bit before you ask him another question. "So, what's your deal? You trying be like that vigilante dude or something?" He laughs loudly at that, and you can't help but smile at the sound.

"I'm actually really good friends with him. I help him out sometimes."

"Really now? So, what's he like?"

"Some people that work with him thinks he's too laid back, and kind of an asshole."

You snort. "I can't say I'm surprised. My friend would be happy though, she's always going for the assholes."

"He's got a fanbase, huh?"

"I think the mask concealing his identity is what's really doing people in."

"Does the mask do something for you?" he asks, and the both of you stop walking, turning to face each other. You hear a hint of curiosity in his voice as you look into his eyes, the only thing beside his forehead that isn't covered. You stare at him for a bit, and he doesn't look away, his gaze strong.

"I'm honestly more interested in the guy behind it."

"Yeah?" You nod quickly, biting your lip to conceal your smile before you continue walking. You giggle a bit as you look over your shoulder since he hasn't started walking and before you can even turn your head back, you can hear his footsteps gaining on you.

Neither of you pick up the conversation after that, but the silence is filled with a certain kind of tension that quickly appears. It's not too long until you reach your place, and you stop in front of your building, spinning on your heel to face him. He looks over the building before he looks down at you, pointing towards it.

"Didn't take you long to show this stranger where you live," he jests, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Well," you hum, shrugging your shoulders. "You're defenseless this time, and I'm pretty confident I can take you."

"In a fight, or...?" You can tell he's wearing a smug smile on his face even though you can't even see it.

You him softly, a smile pulling at the corner of your lips. "What're you trying to say, stranger?" you question, stepping closer to him as you cross your arms.

"Nothing," he responds. "I'm just clarifying."

"Really?" you hum. You walk backward towards your building, and he stays right there, watching you walk towards the door. "Third floor. Three twenty-one," you tell him before you open the door. "See ya around."

You haven't seen the mystery man in a while, and you're not really surprised since you've been watching the news. No one knows a lot about the vigilante because he's so good at covering his tracks. Some people speculate that he's working with other people; you don't really care to know, but you do know that he's making the pro-heroes nervous.

His specialty is exposing the heroes that are corrupt. He's somehow able to get access to things that gives him so much power. He's stated before that he wants to show people how corrupt the hero society is, and you have nothing bad to say about that because you know how corrupt it is, and what it can do to people. You and your mother have seen it first hand.

You shake off those thoughts as you walk home. Even though you can walk home by yourself, you find yourself wondering if he'll jump down from a building or magically appear next to you. You try to tell yourself that you are not disappointed that you didn't see him. You walk into your apartment, deciding to watch your favorite show to unwind and get him off your mind.

You throw your keys on the counter before turning one of your lamps on, and you nearly scream when you see a familiar face laying in the middle of your floor. "Can I help you?" you ask, walking over to him, and your face falls when you see him holding his side. Once you get to him, you realize he's bleeding, and you're quick to crouch down to him.

"Sorry, I didn't come sooner," he tries to joke, but when he laughs, he winces.

"What the hell happened? Why didn't you go to a fucking doctor?" you ask, pulling his hand away to look at the damage.

"It's not that bad," he tells you, and at least he's right about that. You sigh when you see that it just looks like a graze that cut just a little too deep. "Got into it with someone who was not happy that their secrets were out."

"Yeah, I saw that on the news," you say as you stand to get some things to clean his wounds. "Also, if there's blood on the floor, you're cleaning it up!" you shout from the bathroom, and he winces as he sits up to shed his shirt.

"Sure thing," he answers after laying back down and closing his eyes as he listens to you rummaging in the bathroom. He slowly opens his eyes when he hears you walking back to him, and you sit down on the floor with everything you need. He winces as you clean the wound before treating it and neither of says a word. You're mostly not talking because you're trying so hard not to focus on how ripped he is. You didn't expect him to be so hairy.

Your eyes gloss over the plane of abs he has, and you try not to let your hands linger too long on his skin. He's got tattoos covering his arms, and you look over them as you clean his wounds, but you don't ask about them. When you're done, you activate your quirk, putting a little on the wound, and he lifts his head to see what you're doing.

"What's this for?"

"It'll speed up the healing process," you inform, holding your hand out to help him sit up. He groans in pain as he lifts himself up.

"A healing quirk, huh? And you asked me why I didn't go to a hospital," he muses.

"Yeah, yeah. Just keep an eye on it," you tell him before you gather everything and bring it back to the bathroom.

"So, you can heal and trap people against the wall?" he asks, referencing when you first met. You sit down on the couch, and he follows suit, leaving a cushion in between the two of you.

"Basically," you sigh. "I don't really have a term for the material that I can make, but I can harden it and loosen it as much as it wants. I just have to be careful because I can also poison people as well." You smirk when you see him tense, and a laugh bubbles out of your chest. "Don't worry. I have to have really, really bad thoughts about the person for that to happen. So, you're in the clear."

He rests his back against the couch, letting his head fall back, sighing heavily. You don't say anything, but you keep your eyes on him, having a bunch of questions running through your mind. "I know you got questions, so ask away," he says, not even opening his eyes when he speaks.

"How do you even manage to find out all of this stuff?" you ask, and a smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

"They suck at covering their tracks," he answers. "You'd be surprised at how easy is it to find out about stuff like that." You don't respond, turning your head to look at the floor. "Is there where you try to talk me out of what I'm doing?" he questions after you're silent for a bit. You look up to see that his eyes are open and his head is turned toward you.

"No," you answer, copying his position before relaxing on the couch. "Just thinking that I wish you were around a long time ago."

"One of your parents?" he asks softly, and you nod your head as you look at the ceiling.

"I'm only here because my dad couldn't be what he wanted," you whisper. "The shit he put my mom and me through," you continue sadly. "Maybe if someone was doing what you were doing, we wouldn't have been in that hellhole for as long as we were."

"Can still do it," he offers, and you can't help it when a big smile forms on your face. You look over at him to see that he's smiling with you. "Better late than never."

"Yeah," you hum. "He's a suck-ass hero anyway."

"Doesn't mean you can't rub salt in the wound."

"Maybe one day," you respond before you let the silence fall between the two of you.

"I'll put in a word to boss man," he says softly, and you chuckle as you shake your head. "What?"

"I know you're the ring leader, mystery man," you respond, looking at him. "The cliche, "I'm friends with him" bit is so predictable," you tell him lightly.

"Was wondering how long it was gonna take you," he says. "I bet nothing gets past you, huh?"

"It tears my friend up that I can see through her lies," you laugh, and he quietly copies it. You stand shortly after, pointing towards the kitchen. "You want some food? You probably need it."

He grunts when he shifts. "You don't have to do that, I'll be fine." You roll your eyes before you walk away.

"I bet the people you work with get tired of how stubborn you are."

You smile when you hear him laugh before he winces. "They might get a little annoyed."

You don't fix anything fancy, just enough for him to get his energy back. You both eat quietly, the silence welcoming for you since you went down a painful lane of memories, and he doesn't seem to mind either. You hear something in his pocket buzz once you're finishing up, and he takes the last bite of food before he rummages through his pocket as he pulls it out.

You grab your dishes taking them to the sink, and you put in the dishwasher as you hear the chair softly scrap across the floor. You turn around to see him walking towards you, and you lean against the counter as he gets into your space. "Thanks for patching me up," he tells you softly, a small pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"Of course, but maybe go see someone who's more qualified," you jab, returning the smile.

He laughs quietly. "I think you did a pretty good job, so I'll be back."

"Just for that?" you question, knowing he's catching on to what you really mean. He doesn't respond, only leaning down until he's right in front of your face. You hold your breath as your eyes search his face as his stay on your lips.

"Maybe," he whispers, and when he leans in, you follow, but just as he moves forward, he's backing away from you. It takes you a moment to collect yourself, and you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes when you see the smirk on his face. "I'll see you around," he says as he walks to your window, and you scoff softly, shaking your head as you finally roll your eyes.

You look back towards the window, expecting him to be gone, but you jump when you see that he's standing right in front of you again. You don't even have time to say anything, his lips softly touching yours in a kiss that's way too short for your liking. Just as he was there, he's gone, and you can't even register him leaving, the feeling of his lips on yours putting you in your own world.

You can't help but smile as you gently touch your lips with your fingers, and you chuckle a bit before you walk over to close the window.

You surprisingly don't have that many private shows tonight, only having two so far during your shift. You're not complaining on one hand because that means less work, but on the other hand, not as much money. You're walking out of your dressing room after fixing your makeup, getting ready to go back out when Miruko stops you in the hallway.

"I don't know who's in there, but someone paid a lot of money to see you," she tells you, and you frown softly as you stand in front of her.

"You don't know who it is?" you question.

She shakes her head. "He wanted to remain anonymous," she answers. "My bet is it's probably a hero who doesn't want his reputation tainted or something," she says with a roll of her eyes. "But if he does anything weird, you know the drill." You nod before she walks off towards her office, and you walk to the room you're supposed to be in, but you hesitate for a split second when you get to the door. You take a deep breath before you open the door, already starting to get into character.

You freeze when you close the door, seeing a familiar face sitting in the chair in the middle of the room. "What are you doing here?" you ask as you walk towards the one and only.

He shrugs as he leans back in the chair, his eyes heated as they look over your body. You slow your steps as you get closer to him, realizing that this is the most skin he's seen of you. "Dunno. Somehow just ended up here," he replies lazily, his focus on something else. He leans forward to try and touch you, but you stop him, softly wrapping your hands around his wrists.

"No touching," you tell him playfully, and he smirks as relaxes his arms a bit, and you let his arms go so you can turn on the music. When you turn around, his eyes are only focused on you, and you usually play it up a little bit more to get more tips, but you feel like you don't need to do that.

You walk slowly towards him, running your hands over your body once the music starts. He's leaning back in the chair again, and you sway your hips, letting your arms rest over his shoulders as you bend at the waist. He keeps his eyes on yours as you slide your arms over his shoulders, stepping closer to him until your lips almost touch.

You slowly work your way behind him, letting your arms slide down his torso, and you rub your hands over it, feeling his muscles through his shirt. "Y'know, I paid a lot of money to see you," he tells you quietly. His voice is barely audible over the music, and the only reason you were able to hear him is because of how close you are.

"I heard," you hum, letting your tongue gently run down his ear, and your smile widens when you feel him shudder just a bit against your arms. He turns to face you, and it takes everything in you to not lean in by just a hair and kiss him. You don't move, and when he starts to lean in, you quickly move away from him, pulling away from him entirely.

You bite your lip to hide your smile when it looks like he's frozen for a bit, and you walk back in front of him again. He follows you, and you turn around, rolling your hips in a way that makes your ass move. Your fingers slide in between your skin and the tiny shorts you're wearing, and you slowly start to pull them down, holding them as you slide them down your legs, revealing the clear thong you're wearing.

You bend over until they're at your feet, and you turn to the side slightly so you can look at him. His eyes barely cut to yours, focusing on your lower half. You slowly stand up straight, kicking them to the side before you carefully walk backward until you're right in front of him.

You bend over again, moving your hips side to side, and you nearly jump out of your skin when you feel his hands on your ass. You let them linger for longer than you should, but there's no part of you that doesn't want his hands off your skin. You grab his hands before you sit down on him, and you can't stop the gasp that comes out of you when you feel his bulge on your ass.

"No touching, remember?" you scold softly as you lean back against him, but he ignores you, running his hands over your tits before they travel down to your legs. He rubs over your thighs, and when you spread your legs just a bit, he moves them inside, closer to your center, and there's no way to ignore the throbbing that's happening in between your legs.

You're standing up again, but this time, you straddle his lap facing him. His hands run over your ass, and you push your chest into him. "What's a guy gotta do to get all this off?" he asks quietly, and you smile as you roll your hips to the rhythm of the music.

"Buy me whatever I want," you joke, and his slides his fingers under the strap of your thong. He starts to roll your hips for you, and you can't think when he grinds you right into his dick, and you bite your lip to try and fight the moan that was building up in your throat.

In your hazy state, you can feel one of his hands leave you, and you try to see what he's doing, but his lips suddenly touch your skin, and you melt into him even more. You let your head fall back to give him better access, and the soft kisses he plants over your neck is enough to drive you insane.

He says something against your skin, and even though it's muffled, you can tell that he's saying numbers. "What?" you breathe, and you let your head fall back to his level when he pulls away.

He repeats the numbers again as he slides his card into your bra. "Buy whatever you want," he tells you, and his hands slide up your back, on a mission to unhook your bra, but you're quick to stop him.

"Now, wouldn't this take all the fun outta this?" you tease, and he pushes you closer to him even though there's barely any space left in between you and him.

"What I have in mind is a lot more fun than this," he says against your lips, and then the music stops, so the only thing you can hear is how heavy the both of you are breathing.

"Really? Why don't you take me home then?" you question, and your fingers dig into his shoulders when he picks you before you've barely gotten your sentence out. He starts toward the door, and you're quick to slide out of his arms, opening the door and peeking your head out.

You check to make sure the coast is clear before you grab his hand and quickly make your way to your dressing room. "Wait outside for me," you tell him. "Use the back door," you add before you make your way inside, shutting the door softly.

He was the last person for your shift, so you're quick to put on your clothes and check in with Miruko before you make your way out of the back door. When you walk outside, you don't see him, and Shindou comes into view.

"You're leaving already?" he asks, and you nod as you start to walk away.

"Yeah, I'm done for tonight. I'll see you later." He tries to say something, but you're already walking away, wondering where the hell he went.

You're nearly at home, and you still haven't seen him yet. "You look eager." You turn around at the sound of his voice, and his eyes still look as hungry as they did at the club.

"And you aren't?" you bite back, and you start walking towards your building with him in tow. It's when you make it to your door that things don't go as planned. You both freeze when you hear that familiar buzz in his pocket, and the swear he releases is loud enough to echo in the quiet, empty hallway. You visibly deflate, neither of you saying a word, and you slide his card out from your bra.

"Keep it," he says when you try to hand it back to him.

"No," you respond, pressing into his chest. "You come back after you've bought me something." He smirks, grabbing your wrist as he crowds you against the door. He wraps his arms around you as he kisses you deeply, and you're glad that he's holding you because you're sure that you would've fallen because of weak your knees become.

You moan when he slides his tongue into your mouth, claiming every inch of your mouth as his. You wrap around arms around him when you hear the buzzing again. He groans against your mouth, giving you one last long kiss before he pulls away. Your breathing is heavy, and you know that your lips are swollen just like his.

"I'll be back." And you know that's a promise.

~

For some reason, you're still wired even though you swore you were tired when you were getting off work. You haven't seen mystery man in a while, and you're disappointed to say the least. You were so close to getting laid after the tension and been built up, and then the chance was ripped away from you in a second.

You try your best to shrug it off as you change into some comfortable clothes and fuzzy socks since it is pretty chilly outside and you're still a little cold. You don't have to work the next day, and you look at the clock on your stove to see that it's only one in the morning. You get off earlier than usual, and you don't have to go to work later in the night.

The first thing that comes to mind is weed. It'll definitely put you to sleep, so you decide to cook something because you get terrible munchies when you get high. You turn on some music, connecting to your phone to your speaker and playing it on a low volume.

You hum and swing your hips to music softly as you start cooking, completely engrossed in your own world. You're in the middle of stirring your pasta when something rasps at your window. You scream as you turn towards the window, jumping in place. You catch yourself on the counter as your eyes land on a familiar face, and he's sans mask this time, so you can see that he's laughing at you.

You groan loudly as you walk towards the window, unlocking it before sliding it open. "How ya doin', princess?"

"You are the worst," you sigh, stepping to the side to let him in. You walk back to the stove as you hear him step inside and close the window.

"You always scare that easily?" he teases, and you roll your eyes, but you can't help but smile.

"Of course, I don't. I'm in my comfort zone, in my own world right now, and you come out of nowhere."

"You weren't expecting me to show up?" he questions, sitting down at your island, and you don't answer right away because you don't know how to. Because not walking home with him kind of sucked, and you were disappointed to say the least. "You upset about me not walking with you tonight?" You wonder if his quirk has something to do with mind reading, and you tense a bit when you hear his words. "I'm sorry, baby, I got caught up with some shit."

"It's no big deal," you shrug. "You had stuff to do."

"I'll make it up to you." You've been looking at the pasta you've continued stirring, glancing at the clock to see how much time has passed since you starting cooking it. You haven't looked at him since he's sat down, and all you do is hum in response to his words. "Whatcha making?"

"Chicken alfredo." You grab a noodle out of the water, blowing on it to cool it off before you try it to see if it's soft enough. "I'm gonna smoke, and I get really bad munchies. Just preparing for the future." The pasta is to your liking, so you grab your oven mitts so you can move the pot off the eye before you start prepping to cook the chicken.

It already comes in the package, but sometimes you have to doctor it up a bit, and you set a pan on the eye, spraying it before putting your chicken in it. You strain your pasta water, shaking it just a bit to make sure the majority of the water is out. "Is this what you always wear when you're home?" he asks lowly, and your movements slow a bit as you realize that you're not really wearing anything.

You have your apartment pretty warm right now since your cooking, so you're completely comfortable in your thin camisole and shorts that barely cover your ass. As you move the pasta back to the stove, you don't even have to look at him to know that's starting hard at you. "I like to be comfortable," you chuckle with a shrug. All he does is hum, and you feel yourself growing warm, but you continue to focus on finishing your food.

You grab the alfredo sauce from the fridge as you try to keep yourself calm. As you start to finish up, your thoughts drift to how long it's been since you've had sex. Really good sex. And it's been more than a while, and it would honestly be the icing on the cake right now after what happened that night. He stays quiet, but the tension in your apartment has changed and both of you know it.

You turn the oven on so your food can stay warm, and you know it won't be long until you're chowing down on it. You finally turn around to face him, and you can't control the inappropriate thoughts that fill your head as you look over him. His arms are resting on the island, and you don't remember them being that big. You stay silent as you walk towards your nightstand where you keep everything you're going to need.

"You staying?" you ask, holding up the remaining weed you have. He wordlessly answers as he stands up and walks towards you. He walks past you, and his scent alone is enough to make your knees weak. You're quick to stop him though when it looks like he's about to get on your bed. "You're insane if you think I'm gonna let you on my bed in those clothes," you say, pointing at what he's wearing.

You don't care how it sounds, but you will not let any dirt get onto your bed. He just smiles at you, and you turn around so that you can figure out if you have enough for two blunts or just one fat one. It looks like you're just gonna have to fit it in one, and when you're done rolling it, you turn around to see him laying against your headboard in nothing but his underwear.

He has his arms resting behind his head, and the sight stops you in your tracks. "What's wrong?" he asks, a big smirk on his face at your reaction. You ignore his jab, slowly getting on the bed on your knees. You copy his position, getting comfortable before you light the blunt. His eyes are on you as you take a hit before offering it to him. The music is the only thing filtering through the apartment as you start to relax and let the weed fill your system.

You eventually turn your head to the side as it starts to swim, and you're able to catch him blowing out the smoke. You definitely can't stop yourself from looking over him now that you're under the influence, and your eyes start from his neck and make their way down.

You still can't get over how hairy he is, and how he seems to be covered in it everywhere. His arms, his legs, his chest is just covered in dark hair. And you thought he was big in height. You honestly want nothing more than to run your hands over his body, seeing how small your hands are compared to him. Your eyes continue down, and you can feel arousal wetting your shorts when you can see what's in between his legs.

"My eyes are up here, sweet thing." Your eyes are slow to finally meet his, and you see that he's holding the blunt your way. You carefully take it from him before taking a long drag, both of you holding eye contact as you do. You shift a bit until your shoulder touches his arm and goosebumps immediately cover your skin.

You turn a bit towards him, and it seems like he knows what you're thinking, so he does the same. He's practically kissing you when you blow the smoke out, into his mouth, and you only focus on his body breathing it in. You feel a little lightheaded, and you think it's because you stopped breathing for a second. He inhales the smoke deeply before turning away from you to blow it out.

You're mesmerized, barely registering when he turns back to look at you. You forgot how horny weed makes you, and you're practically soaking your shorts right now. You don't know if you want to make a move or not, but as you both finish the blunt off, the tension only gets thicker. He lets you take the last hit, and you stamp the blunt out in your ash tray.

You haven't thought about eating because all you're focused on is him. "Are you ever gonna tell me your name?" you ask. "In my head, you're just mystery guy." He smiles softly at you when you giggle a bit. He hums quietly before he reaches for your leg furthest from him.

You frown a bit at his movements, but you don't fight against them, letting him move you until you're his lap. When you let your weight rest on him, you suddenly feel how hard he is, and you wonder how in the hell you missed that. You can't help but moan when you feel him throbbing against your core, and you don't know how you're going to focus on anything else.

You let your hands rest on his shoulders as his rest on your waist before they move to softly squeeze your ass. "Shinsou." He's watching you carefully, and you're about to respond to him but he grabs your ass again, pulling your shorts up higher to expose more of your skin. He grabs your ass again, this time spreading you open, and you gasp softly as you have a hard time keeping your eyes open.

"Is that all you're gonna give me?" you manage to ask even though you're so turned on right now it's starting to hurt.

"Maybe," he whispers, and you don't really think you'd care right about finding out the answer because his hands rubbing over you feel too good right now. He rolls your body towards him, effectively grinding you against him, and you gaze falls to his chest as another soft moan falls from you.

You can't help but let your hands slide down his shoulders and to his chest, rubbing over his skin just like you thought about doing earlier. Your hands follow the curve of his muscles, and you keep going until you reach his happy trail which you desperately want to keep following.

"Hitoshi."

"What?" you mumble, still zeroed in on his chest, and you can feel the vibrations of his chest when he talks.

"Shinsou Hitoshi is my full name," he answers, and you smile as you look up at him, finally happy to put a name to his face. You let yourself fall forward a bit as you wrap your arms around his neck, arching into him.

"I like the sound of that," you respond, your face inches from his.

"Sound even better if you're moaning it," he replies quickly, and you don't hesitate with your response.

"Well, you know how to make that happen." He hums at your words, and he's suddenly flipping you over, and the quick movement combined with the weed make your head spin. When it finally stops, your eyes focus on him above you.

"You still with me?" he asks you softly as he sets his legs on either side of yours. You nod quickly, softly grabbing his shoulders to pull him down to you. He easily moves, planting his lips on your for another hungry kiss that you can't seem to get enough of. You know that you're already soaking the fabric of your shorts, and kissing him only makes you even more wet.

You guide his hands to your body, and he quickly follows through, running his hands under your tank top, and you arch into his touch. His fingers feel like they're burning a path into your skin, and you can feel yourself starting to get warmer. You spread your legs as far as you can when he starts to move down towards your shorts, and you lift your hips so that he can pull them off with ease.

He pulls away to look in between your legs, and he groans quietly. "All of this for me?" he asks as he throws your shorts to the side. You go to answer, but it's replaced with a soft moan when he runs his fingers through your folds. He grabs one of your legs, pushing it towards your chest as he rubs over your clit.

You move into his touch, shamelessly getting louder the more he touches you. "Come on, Shinsou," you sigh impatiently even though you feel like a few more circles of his fingers could have you cumming in an instant. He doesn't wait to slide his fingers into you, and your hands grip your sheets as he slowly makes his way in.

"God, baby, you're so tight," he whispers, watching his fingers move. They glisten in the moonlight coming in through the window every single time he slides them out, and he can feel his mouth watering the more he watches. "You always this wet?"

"Only for you," you reply, the smile you have on your face slowly disappearing when he starts to rub your clit with his thumb. He speeds his fingers up, and you moan louder when he finally finds that spot inside of you. He zones in on it instantly, pressing it every single time he goes back in, curling his fingers in a delicious way that has your eyes crossing.

He grabs your ankles in one hand, pushing your legs up towards your body when you start moving too much for his liking, and you suddenly find yourself trapped between the bed and his fingers. "'T-Toshi," you whine, and he groans loudly as you continue to repeat his name like a mantra. He's the only thing you can think about as your mind starts to go dumb.

Even if you're able to move your hips a little bit, he follows you no matter where you move. The squelching of his fingers moving in and out of you is audible in the room, and your legs start to shake when you feel your orgasm start to rush up on you. "I can feel you, princess," he tells you. "Lemme feel you cum around my fingers," he orders softly, and one more press of his fingers on your clit and inside of you is what sends you over.

You breathe his name as you cum, soaking his arm and the sheets underneath you. Your legs tremble in his hold as he fucks you through your high, and you squirm when the overstimulation starts to sting your nerves. He slows his fingers down, but he doesn't stop, his eyes watching how you try and fail to move away from his fingers. He finally stops after what seems like forever, and your chest heaves when he puts your legs down as he slides his fingers out of you and into his mouth.

He moans as your taste hits his tongue, and he makes sure to get every drop before he slides them out of his mouth. Even though your head is spinning from your orgasm and the weed, you know for a fact that you want all of him, and your eyes slide down in between his legs, and you can see how hard he is through his underwear.

His phone buzzes suddenly, but he ignores it, spreading your legs as he looks at your cum smeared all over your legs, but then his phone rings. He growls loudly as he gets off the bed, snatching his pants off of the floor, and he takes his phone out of his pocket.

"Shit!" he whispers.

"You have to go?" you mumble, and he slides his pants on before he grabs his shirt.

"I'm sorry, angel," he tells you after he walks to the side of the bed that you're on. He kisses you deeply, and in your influenced state, you follow after him when he pulls away. "It's an emergency. You gonna be okay?" He stays in front of you, making sure that you're okay.

You nod softly, and he turns around like he's looking for something. You're starting to feel tired, your eyelids feeling heavy, and they open when you feel something in between your legs. You look to see him gently cleaning you up, and he moves the blankets, covering you with them.

"I'll fuck you real good next time," he says against your lips, giving you another long kiss before he makes his leave. You smile at his words, listening to him make his way out of your window before you let sleep take over.

When you wake up in the morning, you sit up, upset that he had to leave, but it doesn't last long because you got a really good orgasm while he was here. You didn't get a chance to eat your food last night, and you walk down to your kitchen to see the oven's been turned off. You notice a bunch of stuff on your island, and you frown as you walk over to it.

You see a note on one of the boxes, and you pick it up to read it.

Noticed all the art on the walls, so I figured this would be good enough

Every box that you open has expensive art supplies in it, and even art pieces that are going for six figures. You scoff as you look over everything, and you happen to flip the note over.

I expect you to hold up your end of the deal ;)

You stir awake, and a chill immediately runs up your spine. You're very much awake now as your body goes on full alert mode, and you move carefully, slowing rolling over onto your side. You're confident someone is in your apartment right now, and you can see that it's about two in the morning.

"You awake, baby?"

You recognize the voice instantly, and you sigh heavily as you sit up. Even though you know it's Hitoshi, you still jump when you see him standing at the foot of your bed. "What the fuck, 'Toshi. You scared the hell outta me." He doesn't move, and you slide out of bed, crossing your arms over your chest when the cold air hits your skin. It's pretty dark in your apartment, so the only light on his face is from the moonlight coming in from your window.

"You okay?" you ask softly, your brows softly furrowing in concern when he doesn't say anything. You notice that the look in his eyes is darker than it usually is, and at first you're wondering what could've happened, but then you remember where you've seen that look before.

"I got hit...with something," he mumbles, and then he starts to walk toward you, and you keep walking until your back hits the wall. "I dunno what."

"Okay," you say quietly. "Why didn't you go to a doctor or something?" You don't know why you're asking. He could be on the verge of death, and he'd still come to you to heal him.

"I don't think I need one." He rests his head against yours as his hands rub over your body.

"How are you feeling?" you whisper, making no move to stop him since you have an idea of what's going on.

"Feel really warm," he answers, and that's very much obvious when you touch his face. "And...tingly?" You chuckle a bit, and he smiles when you do but it doesn't last long as he lets his body press into yours. "And I'm fucking hard." You gasp when you feel it, and he moves his head down so he can start kissing your neck.

"I think you were hit with an aphrodisiac," you say even though both of you know that very well.

"Mmh, what should I do?" he asks against your skin as his hands slide around your body to grope at your ass.

"You can wait until it wears off," you breathe, your legs going weak as he starts to suck marks into your skin.

"Yeah, I'd rather just fuck your brains out." He's quick to pick you up in his arms after that, finally meeting your lips in a heated kiss that has you dripping. He makes the short walk to your bed, getting on it on his knees before he lays you down. You wrap your arms around his neck so that he can keep kissing you, but his hands aren't touching you anymore.

"You want this too, right?" You can barely hear him over your heartbeat in your ears, and he softly grabs your face with his hand, causing you to focus on him. "You gotta answer, baby, I don't have much time."

"Yes, 'Toshi. I want you, c'mon," you answer, pulling on his shoulders, and your consent causes his last string to snap. He's got your clothes off in a second, and then your thighs are suddenly by your ears. You jump as he puts his mouth on you instantly, and your hands grab into his hair as you prepare yourself to hold on for the craziest ride of your life.

He moves one of his hands to your ankles so that he can keep your legs out of the way as he slowly slides his fingers inside of you. His tongue works at your clit as his fingers press at the most sensitive spot in your walls, causing your moans to grow louder. "F-Fuck, Shin," you mewl, your breathing heavily now, and your stomach is starting to burn because you can't breath freely with your legs pinned to your upper half.

He only groans in response into your folds as he works you closer and closer to your orgasm. Your back arches as the pleasure starts to build up in the pit of your stomach, and shakily warn him of what's to come. If he heard you, he doesn't respond, only continuing his ministrations, and you swear he tries to reach deeper in to you, the squelching of his fingers moving in and out of you rivaling your noises.

When you start to squirm, he moves with you, not letting up for a second. "T-Toshi--!" Your soft shout tapers off into a gasp as you cum, and his mouth never leaves you as you squirt on his face. He makes sure none of it goes to waste as you try and fail to push him away from you to give you a breather. He sits himself up as he finger fucks you through your high, but he doesn't stop, and you try to grab onto his wrist.

"C'mon," you huff, tears forming in your eyes as you screw them shut from the overstimulation. He smiles down at you before letting go of your legs so he can lean down and kiss you, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue, but he's still fingering you. You can barely kiss him back, whining into his mouth.

When he finally pulls his fingers out of you, it feels like you can breathe again. Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, peeling your eyes open to watch him clean his fingers off by sliding them in his mouth.  "God, you taste so good," he moans, savoring your taste before he kisses you again.

He slides his hand around your neck as he kisses you sloppily, sucking on your tongue before he pulls back with your bottom lip between his teeth. He starts to move himself up, taking you with him, and when he gets off the bed and stands, you realize that you're completely naked while he's still fully clothed.

You lean back, letting your hands hold your weight behind you as you spread your still shaking legs, grimacing a bit at the oversensitivity. You can't help but lock onto the massive bulge in his sweats, and he unties the string and shows himself before you can even say anything. Your mouth nearly drops open at how big he is,  your mouth starting to water just from looking at it. It's so thick that it's hanging there even though he's rock hard, and you tilt your head to the side as you admire the thick veins that run from the base to the dark red tip.

"I wasn't sure if I wanted to have you suck me off or fuck your tits, but it looks like you've already decided," he comments, and you look up at him through your lashes before you get on your knees, moving closer until he's right in your face. The tip is shiny and dripping with pre, and you lick your lips before bringing your hand up to touch him. He hisses when you do, gritting his teeth a bit. "Fuck, it hurts," he groans quietly, and you waste no time licking over his tip with your tongue flat, the saltiness hitting your tastebuds.

Shinsou moans softly, his body seeming to be ridiculously sensitive, that he's pretty confident he won't last long. He looks down to watch you spit on his dick, stroking him to make him even wetter. You try to take him down your throat, but you can't, only getting about halfway before your throat starts to close up. He swears loudly, letting his hand rest on top of your head as he tries his hardest not to move.

You pull off of him, stroking him again as you suck at his balls, and you smirk when you physically see his legs give a little. You make sure to show each one enough attention, swirling your tongue around them before you focus on his dick again. You place your hands on the bed, steadying yourself so that you can shake your ass just a bit while you suck him off, and he moans as he zones in on the movement.

His balls twitch in warning of his orgasm, and he holds onto the back of your neck before he starts thrusting in and out of your mouth. It causes you to gag, and his eyes roll as your throat closes around his dick. "Jesus," he sighs, letting his head fall forward so he can watch you take it. He knows for sure that he'd be able to see his dick print moving in your throat, and that thought is what sends him over the edge, pulling you off of him so he can cum all over your face.

You open your mouth to catch his release as he pumps himself until his skin starts to tingle from the oversensitivity. You swallow what lands in your mouth before wiping the rest of off your face with your finger and sliding it in your mouth. "Shit," he huffs, and you notice he's still hard, so you know he's nowhere near satisfied.

You haven't had much experience with aphrodisiacs, but you do know that they are intensely strong, and your pussy throbs at the thought of more to come. He sheds his shirt before he pulls you up to him so he can taste himself when his lips meet yours. You feel his fingers glide through your folds before they rub over your clit, and your nails dig into his shoulders as you feel yourself getting wetter once again.

You easily fall back when he moves, and he's on you again in a second, lifting his hips a bit so that he can line himself up. He makes you spread and hold your legs by your knees so he has room, and your toes curl in anticipation. He rubs at your clit before slapping it with his tip which makes you jump. "Hurry up, 'Toshi," you whine, and he doesn't waste another second. Your mouth drops at the stretch you start to feel, and he continues to rub at your sensitive bud as he slides in.

"Fuck, baby," he moans, "you're squeezing me so good." You've never felt a better stretch when he finally bottoms out, and you let your head fall back onto the bed as you feel yourself fluttering around him. You honestly don't know how he's holding out so well, but you appreciate the short grace period you're not sure you'll get again.

You give him the okay to move, and he pushes your legs down further than he did when he was eating you out. Your voice gets caught in your throat as he slams back into you with so much force that your headboard knocks against the wall. It doesn't take long for him to find that magic spot inside of you, and when he does, you're practically rendered speechless.

Your eyes continue to roll into the back of your head as you can only think about moaning his name. You try to grab any part of him you can as you hold on, the air feeling like it leaves your lungs every time he thrusts into you. "T-Toshi--f-fuck," you cry, tears forming in your eyes again. "O-Oh...my God--!" Your words are chopped up with every thrust, and he can feel how close you are because you're squeezing him tighter than before.

"'M'cumming--ah--!" Your nails dig into his skin as you cum, coating the both of you in your release as he struggles to stay inside of you as your pussy tries to push him out. He changes the angle of you hips as he throws his back, and the tears from your eyes keep coming.

"Ah, shit," he groans. "You're such a good girl for me, angel. Taking me so fucking well," he continues as he lets his forehead rest against yours, and you can feel his hips twitch before he fills you up, a loud groan following as he fucks his cum into you. When he finally slows and lets go of your legs, they flop onto the bed as it feels like your heart is going to be out of your chest. "That's some good shit," he mumbles, his breath fanning against your face.

He's still hard inside of you, feeling him pulsing inside of you, and you think he might give you a bit of a break, but then he's suddenly sitting up and taking you with him. You bite your lip to conceal your moan of surprise as his the tip of his dick sits snuggly at your cervix. You wrap your arms around his neck as he kisses you deeply as he carefully moves inside of you with shallow curls of his hips.

Your face scrunches up in pleasure as your spine tingles with overstimulation, and he watches you intently as he holds you close to him. He's hitting that spot inside of you so good while barely moving his hips, and all you can do is take it.

"'Toshi," you whine, your nails digging into his shoulders, and all he does is smile in response before your toes curl. You don't even have the leverage to move away from him, and you sigh heavily when he finally pulls you off of him.

He carefully lays you down before he flips you over, propping you up on your knees. You try to catch your breath as he runs his hands over your ass. You moan softly when he runs his fingers through your folds, and you jump when he gently pinches your clit.

He takes his dick in his hand, smacking it against yours as as he continues to play with your clit. "You ready for me again?" he whispers, and you nod your head, looking at him over your shoulder.

He pushes on your back, forming it into a deeper arch. "Spread 'em, baby." You move your hands back, spreading yourself open for him, and the sound it makes due to how wet you are is close to making you flush.

You feel him rub over your back as he slides into you, and he holds your back when you try to move away from him. "You got it, angel, just take it," he coos quietly, and your mouth falls open as he fills you up again.

"Oh, my God," you breathe as you let your face fall into your pillow. He gives you a shallow thrust that has you gasping, and you put your hands back on the bed to brace yourself. He's so big, you don't know if you'll be able to walk after all of this.

You push back against him to silently tell him you're ready, and you hold your breath in anticipation when he slides out of you. You cry out when he slams back into you again, your fingers gripping your pillow as your eyes roll back in your head.

He's ruthless, ramming into your sweet spot so well that words aren't even forming in your head. Hitoshi grabs the headboard with one hand as he keeps his hand on your back, and you can hear him swearing softly as he fucks you.

Tears dot your lashing as you squeeze your eyes shut, taking him all, and you moan when his hand slaps your ass hard. You say his name like a mantra, feeling your orgasm building up in your tummy. Despite that, you're still trying to move away, trying to find his arm to stop him.

He suddenly moves both of his hands to your wrists, pinning them to the bed as he rests his top half on your back. "Don't run," he whispers, and you swear you can hear a smirk around his words. He speeds his hips up, and you're trapped by him and your own pleasure, and you call out his name as you start to cum.

His hips slap against yours, and he groans in your ear as he cums right after you, filling you up again. Your nerves tingle with sensitivity, whining as he keeps fucking you while he rides out his high. When he stops, you can feel that he's still hard, and when he finally slides out of, your lower body collapses onto the bed.

You're breathing so hard, and you can barely move your legs. You hear Shinsou shift behind you, and you whine quietly when he rolls your over. He sits back against the headboard before moving you onto him, and he pulls you into a sloppy kiss as soon as you sit on him.

Your makeout is audible in the room, and you moan into the kiss, wondering if it's possible if the aphrodisiac can be transferred because you feel dizzy just from this alone. He starts kissing over your face before he kisses down your neck as his hands run down your back and to your butt.

"Wanna give you a break," he mumbles against your skin before he gently sinks his teeth into it. "But you're making it so hard," he groans, and you let your head fall back as he continues to mark your skin.

You start to roll your hips causing him to moan, and his fingers dig into your ass. You can't keep it up for long, but he immediately takes over, rubbing you over him. It feels good for you too, but it isn't as overwhelming, so you let him use you, reveling in the sounds he's making.

He thrusts up into you, and you hold on to him as you take your turn to put marks on his skin. "Fuck, 'm so close," he grunts, his hips lifting up to meet you so hard that it nearly sends your head into the headboard.

He says your name right before he cums, and he bits down on your shoulder, holding you tight in his arms until he relaxes again. You pull away when his grip loosens, and you look down to see the mess that he's made.

"God, why am I still hard?" he groans when he looks down with you.

You giggle softly. "You feel a little better though, right?" you ask him gently, moving some of his hair that's stuck to his forehead.

"Yeah," he sighs with a short nod. He watches you move backwards until you're between his legs, and he spreads them to give you room, knowing what you're going to do.

He watches you with dark eyes as you clean up the mess he's made, and he moans when you finally lick over his dick. You arch your back, sticking your ass up as you take him into your mouth, and his head rests against the headboard as his eyes roll.

You keep your eyes on his as you take all of him, moving your tongue so you can lick at his balls, and his hips jump softly at the sensation. You keep your lips tight around his dick as you pull off, swirling your tongue around his tip before you dip into his slit.

"S-Shit," he moans. "Fuck. C'mere," he groans, and you pull off of him, wondering what he's talking about. He softly pulls you up by your arms, and you shuffle closer to him on your knees. You let him turn you around, and he slides down on the bed until his face is right in front of your pussy.

"Toshi, this is about you--!" you try, but he's already put his mouth on you, his tongue nailing your sensitive bud.

"Then let me taste you again," he says against you, and you don't have it in you to fight him. You can't even move away from him, his grip on you so strong, you're confident there'll be bruises. "Keep sucking me off, angel."

You moan as he eats you out, but you put him back in your mouth, focusing your mouth on his tip as you use your hand on the rest of him. You can't keep it up for long as your concentration is split, and you can feel your legs trembling.

Shinsou suddenly grabs your hips, pulling you down until you're sitting on his face, and you sigh at the relief you feel once your legs are relaxed. "W-Wait, Toshi, you can't breathe," you moan, and he responds with a slap to your ass.

You hear him say something against you, but you can't hear him, moving your hips against his face as you feel yourself getting close. You swirl your tongue around him again, the only thing you can manage since your mouth is stuck open as you moan his name while you wrap your hand around him.

You cum not too long after, your body tensing as that knot snaps before you ride out the high. He cums right after you, a loud groan muffled by you as he paints himself and your hand white.

You fall over, getting off of him as soon as you can move so that he can breathe, and he's already on you again. He kisses you hard, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue, and you moan when he rubs his fingers through your soaking folds.

"You better call outta work," he says against your lips.

Yeah, you probably should.

~

You've never been more grateful that Miruko is understanding and let you take the night off on such short notice. When you wake up, Shinsou is snoring loudly next to you, but you couldn't even tell because you were drained yourself. You try to roll over and everything pulls painfully as soreness blooms between your legs. "Good lord," you hiss softly as you try to sit up. Shinsou barely stirs, and you slowly reach for your phone so that you can order some food.

You weren't sure how long the effects of the quirk would last, but five hours was definitely not what you were expecting. He tried to give you breaks every and now and then, letting you tap out when it was too much for you, but it wasn't long before he was in between your legs again. He just couldn't get enough of you, and you honestly want to know what kind of aphrodisiac it was and lock that person up.

After the last round, the last thing you remember is Shinsou pulling out of you and laying you down. He must've fallen asleep right after you did, but now it's about to be late in the evening. Even though you've slept the day away, you still feel like you could sleep for another day. It'll take a while for the food to get here since you ordered enough to feed a small family, possibly more. Once you confirm the order, you flop right back into bed, letting sleep take over again.

You try your hardest to get to the door when you hear the knock because you just woke up, and you don't know how long they've been knocking. You're not surprised when Shinsou doesn't stir, and you wrap yourself in your robe before limping to the door. God, you're going to need to soak.

"Sorry--" You stop talking when you see Shindou on the other side of the door instead of your food. "What the hell are you doing here?" you ask, closing the door slightly as you take a couple of steps towards the hallway.

"Miruko told me you called out, I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he answers, and you give him a small smile as you tighten your robe.

"Oh, well, thanks. But I'm totally fine, I was just feeling a little under the weather," you lie, hoping that he doesn't ask to come inside as your grip on your door tightens a little. You don't know what to say so it gets quiet and suddenly Shinsou's snoring starts to replace the silence. You see Shindou's face change a bit, and you try to change the subject. "Well, thanks for stopping by, I'm totally okay. I'll see you later, okay?"

"What's going on?" he asks when you try to close the door, stopping the motion softly by putting his hand on the door. "Are you really okay?"

"Yes," you respond tightly, inhaling sharply.

Suddenly you notice that the snoring has stopped. "Baby?" You freeze at the sound of Shinsou's voice raspy from sleep. "Who's at the door?" You turn your head to look at him, seeing him slowly sitting up. You turn your attention back to Shindou when he calls your name, and you try to figure out a way to get him to leave because he cannot see Hitoshi.

The look on Yo's face in unreadable. "You're seeing someone now?" He sounds almost offended, and you can't help but scoff.

"Yo, come on. We've been broken up for a while. Don't be like this, I do not have time," you state firmly. "Thanks for coming to check on me, but I'm fine." You try to close the door, but he stops you a bit more forcefully this time.

"Seriously? 'A while'?" he quotes, "did I mean nothing to you?" You sigh heavily waving your hand as you see Shinsou getting out of the bed in your peripheral.

"Yo, you can't be serious right now. Don't get pissy because I'm seeing someone," you say. "How is that fair? You know why we broke up. It was your own damn fault." He tries to speak, but you don't let him. "No, you need to leave. I don't know why you think that you can show up and have the audacity to get pissed because I'm in a relationship."

"I didn't--"

"Oh, but you did," you interrupt. "Leave, Shindou. I'm expecting food soon." You sigh again before you close the door, locking it as you see Shinsou walking over to you, still naked.

"Who was that?" he asks before he kisses you, his voice genuine.

"Someone I work with," you answer at first, and he raises an eyebrow.

"Was it that bouncer?"

"How'd you know that?"

"I see how he looks at you," he says simply with a shrug. "I guess it didn't end well between the two of you."

"Yeah, and I don't wanna get into it honestly."

Shinsou holds his hands up, pulling his lips down at the corners. "And I'm not gonna ask. That's your business, angel." You nod your head softly, but you don't respond, upset at having your whole mood ruined. "Pretty sure he's still standing outside the door," he whispers to you. "Want me to say something?"

You quickly shake your head. "No, he doesn't need to know what you look like," you whisper back.

"It's not like he's gonna know, right? And what's he gonna do, huh?"

"No, 'Toshi," you sigh. "I don't wanna have anymore drama, and I don't want you to get found out," you explain. "Also you're fucking naked." He chuckles which makes you smile, and he kisses you softly a couple more times.

"You're starving too, right?" he asks when he pulls away, his stomach grumbling.

"Yeah," you laugh softly. "It should be here any minute." As if on cue, there's a knock on the door, and you check the peephole before pushing Shinsou out of sight so you can open the door without having him flash the poor guy.

You take the food but before you can even ask for the price, the man speaks before you do. "Don't worry, miss. It was already paid for," he tells you, and you frown at him. "I guess he's your neighbor? I passed him on the way out." Your face falls, and you give the man a friendly smile.

"I'll be sure to thank him. Thank you so much and have a nice day." You close the door before you set the food on the counter.

"Ooh, free food," Hitoshi speaks up as he starts to take the food out of the bag. He said it more to himself, but you can't even find yourself to laugh at his reaction. "He didn't like your job, right?"

You hadn't even realized you'd zoned out, staring at the countertop. You look at Shinsou after he speaks, and you nod your head after releasing another tired sigh. "He was incredibly jealous. I don't know if he was always like that though. And if there was any guy that touched me the wrong way, it took more than a couple of dudes to stop him from killing him."

Shinsou doesn't say anything, he just eats and listens to you, and you finally sit down at the island next to him. "I'm pretty sure Miruko didn't want us dating co-workers, but it honestly didn't last long, and I broke it off once he started acting like that." He pushes a couple of the containers your way. "This doesn't bother you?"

"Why would it?" he says before eating some noodles. "I already know I'm better than him, and by your reaction, I have nothing to worry about. So, I'm chilling." He opens one of the containers he slid towards you. "Now, stop moping and eat this before I eat it all." You can't help but laugh as he holds the fork your way, and you eat off of it. You both talk about random stuff as you eat, and it doesn't take long for you to get out of that mood you were in.

Once you're done, you spend the rest of the day in bed with Shinsou, and you end up sleeping the night away as well.

You freeze when you walk into the room, wondering if this is a joke. You clear your throat as you walk towards the man, doing your best to keep your cool.

"One of the top pro-heroes in my room," you say. The man's face starts to turn pink a bit, and you can't help but smile. "What are you doing here, Deku?" you question as you slide your hands over his shoulders.

You honestly should've expected it to be a hero when you saw how much money was paid. Pro-heroes always go over the actual price, and you assume the rest of it is hush money. It makes you roll your eyes; you have better things to do then telling people which heroes come to a strip club.

He can barely meet your eyes as he answers. "I, um, wanted to ask you something," he whispers, and that makes you frown a bit. He hesitates, and you sit on his lap, his body tensing horribly when you do.

"And what would that be?" you whisper. It takes him a while to finally speak, but when he does, you're frozen.

"I know you know who the vigilante is."

You jump back a bit, trying your best to keep your heart rate from spiking so that you don't alert Miruko. She just recently got some heart rate monitors to try out and you know the moment it spikes, she'll make sure he's out of here.

"And?" you continue, running your hand over his chest, stopping at his heart to see if you can detect a change in his heartbeat. But you don't feel anything, he's completely serious.

"I want in," he states, that nervous demeanor he had nearly gone.

"Want in on what?"

"We both know what I'm talking about here," he responds.

"And what makes you so sure that I can help you with that?"

"A lot of heroes are trying to track him down, but they haven't been very successful," he answers.

"And you have?"

"Why do you think I'm here?" he asks, and you glance off to the side for a split second.

"I'm not a part of what he's doing. There's no guarantee that I can even get "you in"," you quote.

"But you know him. That has to be something, right?"

You frown. "Why would a top hero want in on something that's sole purpose is to expose corruption?"

"Because it's not at all what people think it is. I thought it would change after..." He trails off, pulling his fingers under his thumb to pop them. "But it's still the same shit."

You suddenly get off of him, and his face falls a bit as you start to leave. "Is that all you wanted?"

"Wait!" he says, standing quickly.

You turn around. "Is that all you wanted?"

"Yeah," he says after clearing his throat.

"I'll see what I can do." And then you make your leave.

~

You make your way inside your apartment, but after the conversation you had tonight, you can't really find it in you to go to sleep as soon as you get there. You get in the shower, and you lay in bed, mindlessly watching TV. It's a random show that you put on that you've never seen, but you're not really thinking about watching it.

You're scrolling on your phone, wondering if you'll see Shinsou tonight. You haven't seen him in a while since he's had to lay low because of a close call he had a couple of weeks ago. It's better to only have contact with him in person, so you can't even tell him about what happened at work.

You roll over on your side, and your eyelids start to feel heavy when you blink. Your eyes finally close after a while, your phone falling from your hand as you start to fall asleep when you hear something at your window. You don't move, the sound barely waking you up, but your eyes open when you hear footsteps.

You sit up, seeing Shinsou walking up the stairs, and you smile as he walks over to your side of the bed. You give him a sleepy smile as you fully sit up, and he returns it with soft smile of his own. He leans down, resting his hand on your neck before he kisses you softly.

"Hi, 'Toshi," you hum after he pulls away, and his smile widens at the sleep in your face and in your voice.

"Hey, baby," he whispers warmly. "Didn't mean to wake you."

You shake your head slowly, letting your head fall to the side a little when he continues to rub his thumb over your neck. "I just fell asleep, so you're fine." You yawn quietly, blinking the tears away from your eyes. "Are you supposed to be here?"

"I don't have much time, but I just wanted to see you. Let you know that I was okay," he answers. You hum as you close your eyes, your smile going as big as it can in your sleepy state.

"Well, thank you for coming."

"Of course. How was work?" Your smile falls at his question, and he frowns just a little bit at your reaction.

"Someone came to me looking for you," you tell him, and he takes a half step closer to you.

"They didn't hurt you, did they?" he asks, and even though his body doesn't show that he's angry, the change in his voice does.

"No," you answer with a shake of your head. "They know that we've been seeing each other, and they asked me if I could get them to you," you explain. "They want in."

"Who was it?" he questions quickly.

"Deku," you say with a laugh. "Can you believe that?"

"He wants in? What does that mean?"

"Beats me," you answer with a shrug. "I guess the corruption is too much for him. But he doesn't have to join you, he could literally just leave," you sigh, shaking your head as you roll your eyes. "I told him I'll see what I can do, but I said that I wasn't even a part of it, so there was really nothing I could do."

Shinsou sighs as he looks to the side, and he lets his hand fall from your neck before he steps back, turning around, running his hand through his hair. You frown as you watch him, and you move the blankets off of you so that you can stand. "What's wrong?" you ask, grabbing his wrist, and he turns back around to face you.

"I didn't mean to get you mixed up in all of this," he tells you softly. "I don't like knowing that there's a chance I'm putting you in danger."

"I can handle myself, and they seem to only approach me at work," you tell him.

"But if they know where you work, then there's a chance that they could know where you live," he emphasizes, and you didn't think about that since your brain is still tired.

"Oh, yeah. I didn't think about that," you say plainly, letting your shoulders drop. "So, I should probably be laying low too, then," you continue.

He sighs heavily as he nods. "I'm sorry, angel. I didn't mean for you to wrapped up in all of this."

You shake your head. "Don't worry about it, 'Toshi. I kinda knew what I was getting into when I met you," you tease, pushing on his arm softly, and he finally smiles. "I'll call Miruko and tell her what's going on. She'll understand."

He nods, sighing again. "I should probably see if Deku's being legit."

"Well, be careful, okay?" You lean up to kiss him, and he easily meets you halfway.

"Of course."

"Did we really have to meet here? It almost took me an hour to get to this place."

"I don't have any reason to trust you right now. You could just say I'm being cautious," Shinsou responds, crossing his arms over his chest.

They're nearly out in the middle of nowhere, and there's no reception here, so there's no way Deku can call for anyone just in case he's planning something else. But Shinsou knows him, so he already has plans in place in case things go south.

"We went to high school together. That has to count for something, right?" he laughs.

"Yeah, but there's a lot of years unaccounted for. That was a long time ago." Shinsou stops him before he can even speak again. "What are you really doing here? I don't appreciate you going to people that aren't involved," he says. "You come to me if you want to talk to me."

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry, it won't happen again," Deku sighs, and Shinsou stays silent, wordlessly telling him that he can continue. "I got a lot of information that could be beneficial to you."

"I guarantee you that what you have I already have. And just because you give me information, doesn't mean that you're automatically a part of this."

"Who are you going after next, huh? Someone that's in the top ranking, right? I got everything that you could think of."

"Let's see it then," he sighs. "I guess some things don't change," he adds when he sees the notebooks that Deku pulls out.

"Well, you seem to be a wiz at technology. Anyone would be stupid to keep secrets on any piece of it." Deku hands it to him, and Shinsou makes sure to stay aware of his surroundings as he looks through them. He reads through most of it pretty quickly, already knowing about all of this stuff, but he slows when he sees stuff that he's never heard before. "Told you."

"How'd you get this?" Shinsou asks, reading through a couple of the pages.

"It's what happens when you're friends with these people. Alcohol makes people say anything around the people they trust." He flips through the notebooks a bit more before he closes them, looking back at Deku.

"And I'm just supposed to trust you just because you have all of this?"

"Listen, you're doing work that's needed, but it's not enough. All of this runs way deeper than you think," Deku argues. "And if you have someone on the inside, then you can get to the bottom of it."

"So, you think that once all of this goes away, everything will be the way you want it?"

"We have to at least try, right?" Shinsou chuckles softly, shaking his head.

"Don't you get it? None of this is going change anything," he says, shaking the notebooks in his hand. "Once you go on, there's a very big chance that all of this will start again."

"Then why are you doing it?" he counters quickly. "You're spending all of your time knocking all of these heroes down, and for what? What's your end goal?"

"I'm not gonna be here for much longer," Shinsou answers after he's silent for a while. "I'm just having fun at this point, but this is never gonna stop. I'm just doing what I can before I finally move on." He hands him back the notebooks. "I realized a long time ago that this is just an endless cycle. I've got a few more things I wanna say, and then I'm out of here."

"Then take me with you," Deku tries. "I'm on the same page. This is never going to change."

Shinsou squints at him, crossing his arms again. "I don't think it'll be that easy for you," he says honestly. "Even after what happened in high school, you still came back to all of this, and now you're a big part of it. It's gonna take more than giving me information for you to finally detach yourself from an impossible reality."

He doesn't respond, and Shinsou nods before taking a couple of steps back. "I'll let you think about this. You know where to find me."

Shinsou walks away, leaving Deku standing there holding onto every word he said.

~

Being trapped in your own apartment isn't so bad, but you sure are getting bored going between your bed and the rest of your apartment. You've been finding new shows to watch in between working on some more art pieces, but those don't really hold your attention for long.

You're laying on the floor, scrolling through your phone when you hear a familiar sound at your window. You smile as you sit up, already knowing who it is. You stand up to meet him halfway, and you practically fall into him, wrapping your arms around him. "I'm guessing this isn't going well," he laughs, and you groan before you move your head up to look at him, resting your chin on his chest.

"I'm so bored!" you sigh, whining as he picks you up and walks over to the couch. "I feel like I've done everything I can. Nothing is keeping my attention anymore," you say, and he smiles as he listens to you talk, getting comfortable on the couch.

"Well, I'll be staying here for a while, so hopefully that helps."

"Really?!"

"Yeah, if you don't mind," he says around a chuckle. "Things are getting kinda heated, so we're splitting up for now." You hug him tightly, your body relaxing as you sigh.

"Thank God. I really thought the boredom was gonna kill me." You kiss him softly, further relaxing into him as his hands rub over your back, finding their place on your ass. "Is it safe for you to stay here, though?" you ask.

"More or less," he answers with a shrug. "I've got your building secure, so I'll know if there's something wrong."

You nod before your eyes catch onto one of the paintings you made. "You know, I never got to thank you for all that art you got me a while ago," you say, and he smiles softly, rubbing his hands over your ass.

"Well, I'd say you thanked me pretty well after that aphrodisiac," he replies, and you hum, feeling his hands start to roll your hips against him. "I think you should thank me again after saving you from boredom," he adds quietly.

"Really?" you whisper, already moving in to kiss him again. He's quick to pick you up again, making his way to your bed. He carefully walks up the stairs as he gets rid of your clothes, and he softly places you on the bed before quickly removing his.

He hovers over you, setting his knees on either side of you. He kisses you softly, his fingers drift over your skin so lightly that it's almost ticklish. The sensation makes you arch into him, and you wrap your arms around his neck.

One of his hands continue to move down until it reaches your pussy, and you jump softly when you runs his fingers through your folds even though you were expecting it. He kisses down your face, planting kisses all over your neck as his thumb rubs over your clit.

One of your hands slides into his hair as you spread your legs, and you moan softly when he slides his fingers into you. He sucks at your tits, using his body to keep you from moving too much as he speeds up his fingers, curling them to hit that spot that has you seeing stars.

He lifts his head up when you tug on his hair, your toes curling as you feel that familiar feeling building up in your stomach. He smirks at you, moving up to kiss you sloppily, swirling his tongue around yours.

He pulls your lip softly with his teeth when he pulls away from the kiss, smiling after he lets it go. "You gonna cum, baby?" he asks you quietly against your lips like he doesn't already know.

His smile widens when you can't answer, rendered to moans as he nails both of your sensitive spots. "Toshi, Toshi--" you breathe, your chest stuttering every time you say his name.

One last gasp of his name is what he hears before you cum, your walls clenching around his fingers so hard that he can barely move them anymore. He follows you when you try to move away from the overstimulation, only giving you a breather when you whine his name.

You catch your breath before gently pulling him towards you so that you can kiss him. You rub your hands over his body as he grinds against you, and you buck your hips up into his touch. "You ready for me?"

You nod quickly, and he can feel you spread your legs. "Fuck me, 'Toshi, come on," you urge, and he chuckles softly before he lines himself up.

He lifts one of your legs by your knee as he slides in, and your mouth falls open as you get used to the stretch. You haven't felt this in a while, and feeling it now, you know that you've missed this. He moans as he feels you pulse around him, and he grabs your hands, lacing his fingers with yours as he bottoms out.

He moves your hands so that they're over your head, and he kisses you softly as he lets you get used to the stretch. "This is all pretty intimate, isn't it?" you whisper with a small smile.

"And what about it?" he responds with a smirk, his thumbs rubbing over your hands.

"Feels like we're lovers or something," you comment, and he hums as he tilts his head to the side a bit.

"And we aren't?"

"You know what I mean," you say, trying your best jot to hold your breath as you wait for his response.

"What d'ya wanna hear?" he asks before he kisses you, and you don't get to respond because he quickly pulls out, thrusting into just as fast. "That I love fucking you?" He slams back into you again. "That I love coming to see you when I finally can?" Another thrust. "That it kills me when I can't see you?"

He keeps his eyes on yours as he speaks, and you try and fail to hold the eye contact. "That being with you has made me the happiest I've been in a long time? That I wanna be with you for the rest of my life?"

He speeds his hips up, and he knows that can't respond like you want to, and he smirks before his eyes roll when you squeeze around him as he nails your g-spot. "That I wanna be in this pussy forever?" Your nails dig into his hands as your moans get louder, and he can feel you getting closer.

"Fuck, you always feel so good," he groans, letting his head rest on yours as he feels his orgasm building up too. "C'mon, angel," he urges. "Want my baby to cum." He shifts his hips, nailing that spot inside you every time, and that knot snaps, tears spilling from your eyes when you screw them shut, your mouth open in a silent moan.

"Jesus," he slurs into your neck, groaning your name loudly as he cums soon after you do, slowing down his thrusts as he fills you up.

He lifts his head to kiss you once you both catch your breath, and he lets go of your hands so he can cup your face in his hands, kissing you firmer than before.

"How was that?" he jokes, and he smiles when you do, and your eyes slowly open to meet his.

"That sounded like a love confession if I'm not mistaken," you gush.

"Maybe I need to fuck you again so you know for sure." You laugh, wrapping you arms around his neck before kissing him again.

"I love you, 'Toshi," you whisper.

"I love you, too, angel."

You both stay like that for a moment, just appreciating each other's touch, and Shinsou carefully slides out of a while later, getting off the bed so that he can clean you up. You clench your teeth softly when he rubs the warm washcloth in between your legs, and he hangs it on the side of the laundry basket when he's done.

He slides into bed next to you, and both of you get under the covers as he pulls you towards him. You rest your head on his chest as he rubs over your body, occasionally letting his finger run down your side just to see you shiver.

"So, what happens now?" you ask softly, and you hear him sigh and his head moving softly across the pillow.

"I'm planning on leaving," he starts. "I'll drive myself crazy if I keep doing what I'm doing cause it'll never end." You listen to him intently, tracing his one of his tattoos on his arm with your finger. "There's still some people I wanna take down, though. But after that, I'm done."

You lift your head up, and he's quick to look at you. "So, where are we going?"

He gives you a soft smile, placing his hand on your face before rubbing his thumb over your cheek. "Anywhere you want," he says warmly.

"There are so many options!" you sigh quietly, looking to the ceiling as you go through places in your head.

"You serious about this?" he asks, and you look back at him.

"I honestly don't have any reason to stay here anymore," you sigh. "My dad is still here, and I've always wanted to get away from him as far as possible." You softly chew on your lip. "I guess I never left because I didn't want to break from the monotony of my life or because I was waiting for something to happen. I dunno.

"But you're here now, so I guess this could finally be the push I've been waiting for."

"I'm honored," he muses, and you roll your eyes as you smile, but you can't help but laugh.

It's been a few weeks since Shinsou started staying at your place; he decided that if he was going to go out with a bang, then he should do it when everyone least expects it. He's got a few more things to put in place, but he's able to do all of that while laying low, so even though there could still be people looking for him, it's nowhere near as many as it was a while ago.

"You have to stay still, 'Toshi," you scold, looking past your canvas, and he groans as he rolls his shoulders.

"I don't know if you know this, but this position is fucking uncomfortable," he grunts with no heat behind it. "You couldn't have me lay down or something?"

"If you would stay still, then you wouldn't have to hold the position for so long," you say, and he sighs as he rolls his eyes before getting back into position. You're almost done, adding the last touches when there's a knock at your door. You and Shinsou both look at the door, but neither of you move.

"Are you expecting someone?" he asks quietly, and you shake your head as he carefully moves across your apartment. You stare at the door as you listen to Shinsou tapping at his laptop. "Do you know who this is?" he asks, and you quietly but quickly make your way over to him. He added a few cameras when he started staying here just for security, and the one on the door gives a clear view of who's in front of it.

"Oh, my God," you breathe when you see who it is.

"Angel, wait!" Shinsou says when you run to the door. You quickly unlock it, swinging it open, and you tackle the person with a hug.

"Mom!" you sigh, tears already forming in your eyes as she hugs you back. "What are you doing here?" you ask, not ready to let her go just yet.

"I just wanted to check on you. I was contacted by a Miruko?" she says, and you finally pull away. "She told me that I should probably check to make sure you were okay."

You let her in, closing the door behind you, and in your excitement, you forgot about Shinsou, but when you turn around, he's nowhere to be seen. You frown as you look around for any sign of him, but you quickly turn to your mom when she looks at you. "Is there anything big going on that I should know about?" she asks.

"No, of course not. I just needed to take a break from work, that's all."

"Your boss calls me to tell me to check on you because you took a break?" You can tell she doesn't buy it, and you honestly don't know what you could say. "Who is it?"

"Huh?" you respond suddenly, your eyes widening. "What are you talking about? It's just me."

Your mom rolls her eyes before she turns to face your empty apartment. "Please save my daughter from her horrible lying and come out, please," she says, and your eyes dart around quickly. "I'm not going to hurt you, I promise."

Shinsou suddenly peaks his head out from the loft. "Considering that her quirk has to do with poison, I am a little worried."

Your mom laughs. "Mine has nothing to do with that. I'm defenseless. I swear," your mom says, holding her hands up. Shinsou uses his bindings to jump down from the loft, and you roll your eyes. Of course, he wouldn't use the stairs.

"Nice to meet you, ma'am," Shinsou says easily. "Sorry for all of that," he adds, waving his hand towards the loft.

"Considering your reaction, you must be doing something that you shouldn't," your mom discloses, and you and Shinsou tense for a split second before you sigh.

"Something like that?" he acknowledges with an uneasy chuckle. "I would never put her in danger, though. I'm doing everything I can to make sure that doesn't happen." Your mom just looks at him, and for the first time, it actually looks like Shinsou's nervous. Hell, you are too.

"You managed to get caught up with a vigilante?" your mom suddenly questions, and a million things run through your head as you try to figure out what to say.

"What makes you say that?" you try, but you know she's already figured the both of you out.

"Alright, when are you gonna drop this?" she scoffs with a smile, and you glance at Shinsou, who gives you a barely visible nod.

"Okay, fine," you sigh, your body drooping as you drop your head. "You figured it out." You look up to see a surprised look on her face which makes you frown. "What?"

"Who knew a wild guess could be true?"

"You were just guessing?!" you blurt, and it's not long until all of you are laughing. "Okay," you sigh, "you probably had a long trip, right? Do you want anything?"

"Just some water, please." You nod, leading her to the couch before you grab a bottle of water from the kitchen. You hand it to her before you sit next to her while Shinsou sits on one of the bar stools at the island.

You rest your weight on her, putting your head on her shoulder. "I missed you, Mom," you whisper.

"I missed you, too, sweetie," she responds, rubbing over your head. "I'm sorry I didn't see you sooner. It was hard to come back here after leaving."

"I get it."

"But, it wasn't okay," she states, and you sit up when she shifts, grabbing your hands. "I should've come back sooner, or done a better job at trying to take you with me. I was only thinking about myself, and allowed you to suffer at the hands that man for who knows how long."

Your smile is small as tears form in your eyes again. "But you're here, now. That's all that matters," you say. "And I haven't seen him in years. I guess he's too upset that I wasn't what he wanted me to be."

"I'm so glad you got out, and that you've had people that are taking care of you." Then she suddenly sharply turns to Shinsou. "And what are your intentions with my daughter?"

"E-Excuse me?" he stutters.

"Mom!" you exclaim, giving her a questioning look.

"You didn't think I would ask? His career isn't really something that comforts me." You sigh heavily, letting your head fall into your hands. She stands up, walking over to him as she puts her hands on her hips. "Well?"

"I can promise you now that I can take care of her," he declares. "I won't be doing this for much longer anyway, so you'll have nothing to worry about." You can't help but smile as you listen to him, and he looks at you for a brief second, returning your smile before he looks back at your mom. "I'm going to support and love her for as long as I live."

"And then what?" He raises his eyebrows, not following what she's saying. "What happens after you're done with all of this? Am I getting grandkids or what?"

"Good lord, Mother, please," you groan, but she doesn't take her attention off of Shinsou, and he releases an uneasy chuckle.

"We haven't really talked about that yet, um..." he tries.

"I'm not saying it's a must," she emphasizes. "I just want to make sure there are plans in place."

"I can assure you that there are plans. I plan for everything," Shinsou assures. "I will never let anything happen to her."

"I'm holding you to that," she declares. "You won't be able to escape if I find out something did happen."

"I can't say that I'm surprised, but you won't be doing any of that," he repeats, and he has no problem telling her over and over again.

"Okay, Mom, you can chill with the interrogation," you say, walking up to her and putting your hands on her shoulders. "How many times does he have to repeat himself?"

"I'm just being precautious while he's still involved with dangerous things." You roll your eyes, knowing that there's really nothing either of you can say to placate her worries. She presses some more questions out of Shinsou, but he's eager to answer them, and you just sit back and watch them. It sort of puts you at ease, knowing that you have people that do care about you.

Your childhood was rough, and you know for a fact that if you could go in time, you would tell your past self that it does get better, and that you're going to meet one of the best people you've ever met. You'd go back in time and tell her that everything is going to be okay, and that she was a fighter, that her mother never stopped thinking about her.

Your mother stays for the rest of the day, and you soak in every moment that you have with her and Shinsou that entire day.

~

"Hey, I was thinking of some new recipes I found for dinner. Pick which one you want," you tell him, having the recipes splayed out on the island. You hear him walk up behind you, but before you can turn around, he's wrapping his arms around you, looking at the recipes over your shoulder.

He glues himself to your back, humming softly as he looks over the recipes. "That one looks good," he says, pointing to the one he's talking about.

"Are you hungry now? I can start on it if you are," you ask, grabbing the recipe, but he doesn't let you move.

"Not really," he answers, his lips hovering over your neck. "But I wouldn't mind having a snack," he adds before he softly kisses your neck as his hands rub over your body.

"Toshi, c'mon," you giggle, but you make no move to stop him.

Suddenly, there's a hard banging on your door that scares the shit out of you, and Shinsou instantly turns around, standing in between you and the door. "I know you're here! Open up!" You tense so hard it hurts when that voice hits your ears. When it looks like he might move, you stop him softly with a hand on his arm.

"Do you know who's out there?" He turns to ask you, and you can only give him a silent confirmation in the form of a nod. They bang against the door again, and you try your hardest not to flinch. You step around Shinsou so you can make your way to the door, and you take a few seconds to calm yourself before you open it.

You don't open it all the way, stopping the door with your body when your father tries to forcefully enter his way in. "What the hell do you want?"

"I am your father, you don't--"

"You are nothing to me," you respond sternly. "How in the hell did you find me?" You never thought you'd see him again. Once you declared that you didn't want to be a hero, that you weren't going to allow him to control your life anymore, he disowned you. When you were old enough to finally leave, you did because he didn't care for you anymore. Honestly, you don't think he loved you at all like a father should; he just wanted you to be something he couldn't.

"Who have you been hanging out with?!" he demands, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't bullshit me! I know you've been around that vigilante!" This time you really frown at him. How in the fuck does he know that? You obviously don't look at Shinsou because that would definitely raise suspicion, and you don't know what your father would do.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you try, and he slams his hand against the door when you try to close it.

"I know you're lying to me. You've always been bad at that." He only thinks that because he was always been forceful when it came to getting your true opinion about things.

"Are you stalking me?" you question, and if you were younger, you wouldn't catch it, but you seem him hesitate for a split second. "Why? I thought you were done with me, huh? You wanted me to get outta your sight for being such a disappointment and a mistake." You quote his words back to him, but of course, he barely shows a reaction.

"You are making me look bad," he tries, and that makes you roll your eyes.

"As far as I know, no one knows about me because you were so disgusted that I wasn't what you wanted me to be. So I am very convinced that your statement is far from the truth."

"Don't change the subject." You wonder if he can hear how ridiculous he sounds over his ego. "And where you're working now? Your mother would be so disappointed in you."

"Don't you talk about my mother that way!" you scream, pointing at him. "She was the only person that loved me in that fucking horrible household! She's the only reason I'm still fucking here! She would be glad that I'm away from you!" He tries to speak, but you refuse to let him get a word in now. "You are the worst person in the world, and an even worst father and husband! And I will make sure one day that everyone knows about it, and you will be even further from being in the top ten!

"But it's not like you'll need my help anyway because you're such a sorry pro-hero!" That seems to really set him off because he's slamming the door open, knocking you back. He keeps moving until he pins you against the counter as fear rises in your throat, and you suddenly feel like a child again, completely helpless against him.

You try to fight him off of you as the counter continues to dig into your back, and you close your eyes as you find yourself at a loss of what to do. Your eyes shoot open when his grip starts to loosen, and you see Shinsou holding him in a chokehold with a cloth over his face. Your father's eyes are frantic as he tries to fight whoever is holding him, but his movements start to slow as his eyes fall closed.

When he stops moving, Shinsou lets him fall to the ground at the same time you sink to the ground, sobs leaving your chest as you start to take in what just happened. Shinsou's with you in a second, holding you in his arms as you let it all out. Your eyes are screwed shut as you try not to let yourself go down that horrible memory lane.

"Just focus on my voice, okay? He's not gonna hurt you anymore." He keeps talking to you, which helps especially since you couldn't think of anything else to focus on. He eventually picks you up once you calm down a bit, and he carries you to the couch, sitting down with you in his lap.

You rest your face in his neck, taking a final breath that really expands your lungs to really calm yourself. "What did you do to him?" you ask, sighing at the motion of him rubbing over your back.

"I just knocked him out with some dust I got from a friend. He won't remember much when he wakes up," he tells you. "Didn't know if I had your permission to kill him." He smiles when he hears you laugh before you sniffle. You lift your head up so that you can kiss him.

"Sorry, you had to see me like that, but thank you for calming me down."

"Don't apologize for anything," he says. "He's a piece of shit, and I'm so sorry you had to go through that." He rubs his finger up and down across your cheek. "You never have to apologize for something like that. Okay?" You nod, giving him another hug as you take another deep breath.

Shinsou sits with you a little bit longer until he mentions that you should probably get your father out before he wakes up. Since it's pretty late at night, you're able to walk out of your apartment as Shinsou carries your father over his shoulder out of the building. Just as you thought, when you walk out, there's a car sitting behind the building. The driver side door opens, and you speak up before the man can say anything once he gets out.

"Tell him that if he shows his face here again, he won't walk out." Shinsou has everything covered, so the man definitely won't be able to identify him, and he nearly throws your father into the man, and he almost falls as he tries to catch him. You don't want to be near him any longer, so you quickly turn around to walk back into your apartment.

"I can't stay here anymore." It's the first thing you say once Shinsou closes the door to your apartment. "He's just gonna keep coming back or send people to stalk me," you continue. "He'll definitely put things together if he sees you."

"Don't panic, okay?" Shinsou tells you, stepping into your space and resting his hands on your neck, letting his thumbs rub over your face. "You can just stay with me until he dies down. I don't mind. Things have pretty much settled, so everyone's heading back to our home base, but I just wanted to stay with you."

He smiles when you do, and you sniffle again as you rub your hand over your head. "I don't think I have a choice," you sigh. "I just have to talk to my boss."

~

"You don't have to say anything."

You blink in surprise. You told Miruko you had something to talk to her about, so she lead you into her office. Once you closed the door and tried to explain your situation, she spoke before you could. "Excuse me?"

"Did you forget that I've known you since you left that piece of shit?" Her words cause you think about your past self, and you push past it for now. "I'm guessing he showed his face? That's why you're here."

"Yeah," you whisper.

"And I know you've got someone now, so don't worry about anything here. Just worry about yourself." You can't help but smile at her words, and she copies it as she walks toward you. "I'd kill that man for you in heartbeat, you know that?" She hugs you as you laugh, and you nod against her. She pulls away, holding your face in her hands. "God, he really got you this time, didn't he?"

You nod again, deciding not to say anything, but thanks to Shinsou, you've already let out your emotions. Before, when your father was still finding you, you'd hold it in until Miruko called you into her office, and you'd finally break. She hated seeing you like that, and she's glad that she hasn't seen you like that in a while.

"If you need anything, you call me, okay?" You nod again, giving her another hug before you make your way out. You had already met up your friend, telling her about everything that had happened, and she was just as supportive, only telling you that she wishes she could go with you.

You're about to walk out the back door, feeling a weird sense of calmness despite the events that have occurred the last couple of days. You can feel a bit of nostalgia tied in with it, and you know it's from the fact that you may never step foot in this building again. You won't see Miruko or your best friend for the foreseeable future, but you know they only want the best for you, and that's enough to make you feel better about how the situation with your dad came to this.

You stop when you see your friend, giving her one last tight hug with the promise that you will contact her as soon as it's safe. Having that conversation with her did make you shed some tears, but she's making you smile nonetheless, and you know you wouldn't have even made it this far without her and Miruko.

You finally make it outside, taking a deep breath when the air hits your skin. Shindou's standing right beside the door when you walk out, and you battle in your head whether or not you should say something.

"You're not coming back, are you?" he asks quietly. You stop, slowly turning to look at him, and the low volume of his voice makes you realize how quiet it is.

"Yeah," you sigh softly. "Some shit came up. It's not safe here for me anymore." The plain look on his face disappears as his brows crease to hover closer to his eyes.

"He found you?"

You nod, knowing who he's referring to. "I don't know if I'll be back, but I hope--" You cut yourself off when he steps closer to you, and you almost back away.

"Is he treating you good?" he asks you suddenly, but there's no jealousy in his voice, only lovingness with a hint of concern.

You give him a small smile as you nod. "Yeah. I love him," you tell him honestly, and you can see something that looks like regret flash in his eyes, but you can barely catch it; the look is gone by the time he blinks.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry for how I acted during our relationship." You hesitate to respond for a split second, not sure if you want to go down this path.

"Thank you for saying that," you eventually say.

"I mean it. And I've really messed things up, and I hate that this is the last thing that I'm telling you." You just listen to him talk, not sure if this is something you need to respond to. "But, I'm glad that you're happy, and that's all I want for you. I just regret that I'm not the man to do that for you." It looks like there's more he wants to say, but you know that you don't have much time left.

If there was something else he wanted to say, he drops it, instead saying, "Is it okay if I hug you?"

There's no way that you can say no. Even though you don't feel for him the way you feel for Hitoshi, he was someone who was with you through the hard times as well even though for some parts of it, he wasn't making it any easier.

He hugs you tighter than you expect, and he knows that this is the last time in his life he'll get to hold you like this. He sighs heavily before he pulls away, giving you a soft kiss on the top of your head before he finally lets you go, taking a step back.

"Goodbye, y/n."

"Goodbye, Yo."

You don't give him another look, turning away slowly before you head down the street. You know his eyes are still on you until you're out of sight, and if you're being honest, you needed that conversation more than you thought. Your relationship with Shindou was one that wasn't built on the best foundation, and it hurt when it finally crumbled and fell.

Talking to him for the last time gave you the last bit of closure that you didn't know you needed, and you walk back home in a lighter mood than before.

You pack up your stuff when you finally get back, waiting for Shinsou to let you know when he was outside. You take one last look around your apartment, making sure you have everything before you make your way out the back of the building. You see a car when you walk out, and he rolls the window down once you come into view. He helps you put your stuff in the car, and then you're driving away.

It's dark outside, and you stay quiet for most of the ride as you look out the window. And it's not because you're feeling bad or anything, it's just that you can't believe it's come to this. You honestly never expected your dad to talk to you let alone find out where you live and where you're working. You think it's because you've been around Shinsou. Your dad must have suspicions about who this vigilante is, but that means that there could be an actual investigative case about Shinsou.

You don't think he's working alone because some of the stuff he's done, you know he wouldn't have done without help, but he hasn't mentioned anyone else. All you really know is that he's the ringleader in everything that's going on. You don't know how long you've been driving, but you're going further away from the city.

There's music softly playing from the speakers of his car, but you're not really paying attention to it. Everything was going so well, and you never expected your father to show his face, especially after that last conversation you had with him. He told you that he never wanted to see you again, and for once, that was the only thing that you had agreed on.

Your mood has definitely soured, and you feel Shinsou's hand on your thigh. He grabs your hand shortly after, giving you a kiss on the back of your hand, and you softly smile at him. You focus on the feeling of his hand for the rest of ride, trying your best to not let the recent events cloud your head too much.

He eventually slows down, turning down a dirt path that you could barely see. The sound of the car driving over the rocks fills in the noise over the music, and you look around through your window even though it's pitch black outside. You can see something coming up in the distance, and you squint as you get closer to it, your eyes honing in on a house that looks like it hasn't been touched in years.

"Please don't tell me this is where you've set up shop," you mumble, and you hear him laugh as he pulls up next to the house.

"Of course not. We all have taste," he responds, and he slows the car down in front of what looks like the start of a forest. He reaches into the console, pressing a button, and you jump when you hear something moving. You look ahead to see the trees in front of you moving, the path that looked like a dead-end now clear.

He drives forward, going through the clearing, and once he gets through, he puts the car in park before getting out. You watch as he starts to cover up the tire tracks, throwing down some downed branches just to be on the safe side before he gets back in the car. He pushes the button again, and you watch as the path disappears again.

He continues to drive, and you see another house coming up, but this one is much bigger than the one that you passed. "There's no way no one hasn't seen this, even with the trees," you comment as he pulls into the garage.

"We have some cloaking tech as well that we added just to be on the safe side," he tells you as he turns the car off. You get out, and he grabs the bags that you're going to need, deciding to worry about the other stuff later, which you don't mind. There's no lights on anywhere, not even on the outside of the house, so he holds your hand as he guides you through the dark.

You reach a wall, and you can barely see him put his hand up. You jump when you hear an automated voice say his name, and then the wall is opening. He doesn't immediately walk inside though, stepping to the side and turning to you. He pushes something on the wall where we placed his hand, and then he lifts your hand, placing it where his once was.

"Now, you're in the system," he tells you easily before he leads you into the house. The door closes behind you, and you're still in the dark, but suddenly the lights turn on. You squint quickly, your eyes taking a while to adjust to the light, and when they finally do, they widen as you take everything in.

"Oh, my God," you breathe. "This is amazing."

He chuckles. "It isn't all that." He pulls you through the house, and right now, it's just an open space, but you're still surprised nonetheless. He tells you that this room is like an additional security measure, and you find that the actual part of the house where he lives is through another wall, but this time it's more intricate to get into. Everything that you would need to get in, he makes sure that you have in, setting you up in the system until you're finally seeing what the inside actually looks like.

The first floor seems like it's five times the size of your apartment, and your eyes are wide as you take it all in. There's basic things on the first floor, like the living room, kitchen, and a gym that looks way better than anyone you've seen at the public ones. You follow him up the stairs, which has more rooms, but you decide to explore those later as sleep starts to call your name.

He takes you to his room at the end of the hall, and the bedroom alone seems to be bigger than your apartment. He carefully sets your bags down by the bed, and you admire the bed. "It looks so comfortable," you sigh. "But I wanna get in the shower first."

He leads you to the bathroom, and even though you expected it to be big, you're still surprised when you finally walk in. He turns the shower on, and he undresses you, putting your hair up and in a shower cap before gently pushing into the shower. You groan softly as the water hits your skin, and you turn around, letting the water hit all of you. You hear the door open and close again, and you wipe the water out of your eyes as you turn around.

Shinsou tenderly grabs your face in his hands, giving you a soft kiss. "You okay?" he asks you quietly. "I know these past couple of days have been pretty hectic."

You respond with a small nod. "I'll be okay eventually. I think seeing my mom and then that whole thing with my dad just kinda through me for a loop."

"Have you talked to her yet?" he asks and you shake your head.

"Not yet. But, I will first thing tomorrow."

You told your mom everything that's been going on with you starting with what happened after she left. You told her how you got your job now, and that Miruko has been taking care of you ever since she found you. You want to tell her about the situation with your dad as soon as possible since you don't want her getting worried if you don't contact her.

Shinsou carefully washes your body, planting your face and neck with kisses every now and then before he showers himself. He dries you off when you're done, but not without some lingering touches that has you staring him down. He wraps your hair up before laying you on the bed and rubbing lotion into your skin, and once he's done with himself, he turns off the light, joining you in the massive bed

He's in your space as soon as he gets comfortable, and you curl into him as he wraps his arm around you. "Thank you for all of this," you whisper, your eyelids starting to feel heavy. "I love you."

"I love you, too, baby," he whispers back. "Sleep tight."

When you wake up, you know that you're alone. You roll over, confirming it with your eyes once they open, and you stretch before you sit up. You see one of Shinsou's sweatshirts on the bed, and you put it on before you get out of bed. You walk into the bathroom to brush your face and do your skin routine before you make your way out of the room. You can hear music coming from downstairs, so you follow it, crossing your arms as you get to the bottom of the stairs.

The music's coming from the kitchen, and you walk in to see Shinsou at the stove. He catches you walking up to him from the corner of his eye, doing a double take before smiling at you. He leans away from the stove to kiss you. "Good afternoon, baby."

"It's the afternoon?!" you exclaim softly, and you look around for a clock, seeing that it's a little past one o'clock.

"Yeah, you were sleeping like the dead," he teases and you yawn again.

"I guess I really needed that sleep." He chuckles softly, and you stand next to him, leaning on him as you watch him cook. When he's done, you both sit at the island to eat, staying silent as you do. The silence isn't awkward, and with Shinsou next to you, it's more than welcomed.

"You ready to meet everybody?" he asks once you're done eating, and he takes the dishes to the sink to wash them.

"Are they gonna welcome me?" you say around an uneasy chuckle.

"Of course. They're chill people," he answers. "Well, except for one, but he's always been like that."

You nod at his words even though he can't see you, and he dries his hands once he's done with the dishes. He walks back over to you, grabbing your hand to gently pull you out of your seat. "Don't worry too much. You'll be fine," he reassures, and you wordlessly follow him out of the kitchen.

He walks down a hallway until he reaches a door, scanning his hand on the hidden panel so that the door can open. You follow him down the stairs as the door closes behind you, and when you can hear voices, you start to get a little nervous.

"Took you long enough," you hear once you reach the bottom, and you walk into an open room.

"It's not like we're doing anything urgent today anyway," Shinsou counters as you look around the room. There's a bunch of screens on one side of the wall, and there's a table in the middle of the room with a holographic map of the city. The other side of the room as computers with a bunch of stuff on the screen that you don't really try to read right now. Your eyes scan through the faces that are in the room next, and they're all looking at you, but you don't know what to say.

"I never thought you would introduce us to the girl that makes you go MIA for days," one of them suddenly says, and she stands up, walking over to you. "I'm Mina."

"Nice to meet you," you say quietly, shaking her hand.

"This is Bakugou, Sero, Denki, and Kirishima," she introduces quickly after, and they all give you either a wave or a nod of their head except for Bakugou. You assume that's who Shinsou was referring to earlier.

"Nice to meet you guys." Everyone goes back to their conversations shortly after, and you sigh internally in relief since you were worried it was going to get awkward.

"Relax, we're not gonna hurt you," Mina laughs, guiding you towards a small table at the side of the room. Shinsou focuses his attention on one of the screens at the other side of the room as Mina continues to talk to you. "So, what brings you here?"

"Some family stuff," you answer. "My dad is currently looking for me, which is not a good thing," you laugh bitterly.

"Is he a hero?"

You nod, taking a few seconds before you say his name. "He's Envenom."

"Your dad is Envenom?!" you hear someone yell, and you jump softly as you try to figure out who just yelled. You assume it's Kirishima because he's walking over to you. "Does your quirk have something to do with venom then?"

"Kinda. I mostly use it for healing though since that's my mom quirk. The only way I can use my poison is if I really hate the person," you huff.

"A healing quirk?" Denki speaks up, walking over to you as well. "I got this nasty gash while training, and it hurts like a bitch," he groans, and he lifts up his sleeve to show you.

You grimace a bit. What kind of training do they do here?

You hold your hand out, telling him to come closer, and he holds his arm out to you. You spread the substance from your fingers over the gash. "It won't heal overnight, but it'll speed up the process. And it shouldn't hurt as much now."

"It's like it never happened," he laughs, shaking his arm and you can't help but smile as you watch him.

You see Bakugou stand up suddenly and walk over to Shinsou. "Her dad's one of the top pro-heroes, and you brought her here?" Even though he's whispering, you can hear him loud and clear, and you shrink into yourself a bit.

"Relax, Bakugou. He's a piece of shit. He won't come anywhere near here," you hear Shinsou respond, and you don't hear the rest of the conversation because Mina catches you attention again.

"So, you have some bad beef with your dad or something?" she asks, and now that everyone's attention is on you, you feel nervous to answer.

"He wanted me to be the best hero because he couldn't," you say, giving the bare minimum, but everyone seems to understand. "He didn't treat me or my mom good, and we both left as soon as we could." You look down at your hands, taking a deep breath as you try not to let the bad memories flood in. "I haven't seen him in years, and he showed at my apartment two days ago. I don't really know what he wants from me."

Mina rubs over your back, and you look up to see Bakugou looking at you, but once you meet his eyes, he looks away, busying himself with something else. "I'm glad that you got out," Sero says, and you give him a small smile as you focus on the people next to you.

"We can take him down if you want. I'm itching to be out there again anyway," Denki sighs.

"Maybe, I'll take you up on that one day," you say around a smile.

Shinsou interrupts the conversation a little while later, wanting to start talking about the plans that they have before they're finally done. You stay in your seat, going back and forth between listening and zoning out. There's still a part of you that has anxiety about your dad and if he's actually been following you.

You feel like there's no reason for him to be doing any of this, but maybe he just can't get over his ego. You were able to contact to your mother and tell her everything that's happened. You reassured her that you were okay, but you told her that you probably wouldn't be able to contact her as much just to be on the safe side. You know that your dad wouldn't try to track her down, but you don't know how confident you can be on that anymore.

There's a deck of cards on the table, so you busy yourself with that as they talk. You're half listening to what they're saying, starting to go into your own world, and you don't even realize that they're done until you see Shinsou come up to you out of the corner of your eye.

"You didn't have to stay, y'know?" he says, and you collect all of the cards.

"I just didn't feel like getting up," you muse, putting the cards back before you stand up. Before Shinsou can say anything, Mina's speeding by and pulling you away.

"It's so nice to have another girl here. There's so much I can finally talk about that someone will actually care about!" she says quickly before she pulls you up the stairs, and Shinsou laughs as he watches you go.

~

Shinsou's already moved all of your stuff into the house. Apparently, everyone has their own part of the house, which explains why you never seen anyone moving about. Shinsou moved all of your art stuff into one of the empty rooms that was on the hall, and you spend most of your time here when everyone's out doing what they need to scope out who their next target it.

You're sitting on the stool in your art room in front of one of the paintings you were working on before you left your apartment. You don't really have an end goal to the painting, you just started it because you needed something to do to cure your boredom. Your mind isn't really empty like it usually is, and you just have so many thoughts running through your head that you're close to just finding something else to do.

You sigh, putting the paintbrush down with the intention of finding something else to do. You jump when someone clears their throat, and you look to your left to see Bakugou standing in the doorway. "You mind if I come in?" he asks quietly, and you shake your head as you shrug.

"Come to tell me that Shinsou shouldn't have brought me here," you say, half-joking. His steps falter a bit, and he looks at a loss for words. "I'm just joking, Bakugou," you laugh. "I don't blame you for being skeptical of me, but I'm gonna be honest, I don't know if my dad is still after me or not. And if there's a chance that he does find this place, I take full responsibility."

He nods carefully, taking some time before he speaks. "Do you have any idea what he'd do if he found you here?" he asks, and you shake your head.

"I have no clue. I seriously thought he was done with me, so I don't get his deal. Maybe it's his ego or something."

"There's a chance that could be the reason. That seems to be one of the things those top heroes have in common," he says. "Having big fucking egos and being too cocky." You laugh softly, glancing at your painting as silence fills the room again. "You talked to, uh," he starts, and you look at him. "You talked to Izuku, right?"

You frown, looking around as you think before putting your eyes on him. "Deku?"

"Yeah, yeah. You saw him, right?"

You nod. "We talked after he came to my job. Shinsou didn't tell you?"

Bakugou sighs. "He did, but he's always been very vague sometimes," he answers, and you just stare at him. He clears his throat, crossing his arms over his chest. "What?"

"You wanna know how he's doing, don't you?" You smirk as Bakugou scoffs, trying to find somewhere else in the room to look. You stand up, walking up to him, and he takes a while to meet your eyes. "He's frustrated. Apparently, he really wants to remedy all of the corruption, but I think he knows that even if he does that now, it won't stop."

"He's always been stubborn like that," he whispers after he huffs.

"I can't really give you anything else. Our conversation was pretty short."

"Did--Did he ask about me?" he asks cautiously, and you try to figure out how to answer without hurting his feelings too bad.

"I'm not sure if he knows that any of you are a part of this," you say. "I think a lot of people suspect that Shinsou's not working alone, but no one has a clue who you guys could be." Bakugou stays silent as he nods. "Also, I told him that I wasn't a part of this, so even if he did ask about you, I wouldn't even know who you are."

Shinsou told you about how him and everyone got in this place at first. They all went to high school together, but only a few of them chose this path. Bakugou was actually the last person to join, which was unexpected for you to hear. No one tried to convince any of their friends that chose the pro-hero path to join them, knowing that it was their choice to go that route.

After what happened in high school, a lot of them decided that hero work wasn't for them, and as they got older, they only realized how bad it was on the inside. One by one everyone started to join, and they've been running together ever since.

"It's just--we've been doing this for years, and now he decides that he wants in?" Bakugou sighs.

"Well, you did say that he's pretty stubborn," you say. "So, he's probably been trying to fix this for a while, but he didn't want to believe that he couldn't stop all of this." You sit back down on the stool.

"I don't even know if we can trust him. What if it's all just an act?" he voices aloud.

"Do you think he's capable of doing something like that to you guys?"

"Who knows? It's been years since we've all seen each other. A lot has happened." You don't respond, and Bakugou eventually sighs, shaking his head. "Sorry, for talking your ear off. I bet you didn't want me to bother you with all of this."

"Don't worry about it, Bakugou," you say softly after you laugh. "I'm always here if you need someone to talk to."

~

"Where are you taking me?" you question, waving your hands out in front of you.

"It's a surprise, baby. Just be patient," Shinsou laughs.

You've been at Shinsou's house for a few months now, and you've settled in nicely with everyone. You hang out with them for most of the day, playing games or just having conversations that go late into the night. They've already been on two big missions, and you've been there anxiously waiting for them to come back.

Thankfully, they've all come back, but not without some injuries. You do your best to heal them as much as you can, knowing a bit about suture techniques thanks to your mom, but you're definitely nowhere near a doctor. They have one last mission before they finally call it, and you can tell that it's got everyone on edge. The atmosphere has definitely changed. It's nothing major, but you can tell that everyone, yourself included, are counting down the days until it happens.

"I'm blindfolded, Toshi. Can you blame me for being impatient?"

You were packing up your stuff, getting ready to head out once they finally completed their final mission. They're able to do it from the hideout, so while they were putting in the last touches, you started to get everything together. Once you got the majority of it, you helped Shinsou pack the car. When he was done, he turned to you, suddenly putting something around your head so that it covers your eyes.

He guided you back into the house, and know you have no idea where you are. You hear a door open, and the chill air from outside hits your skin, making you shiver a bit. He stops you from walking with his hands on your shoulders, and you can hear him take a couple of steps away from you. "Okay, take it off."

You quickly untie the fabric, and you blink rapidly. Your eyes widen when you see what's in front of you as your mouth drops open. "What is all of this?" you ask. He's led you to the roof, where he has a blanket and candles set up. You walk over to it, and he's quick to follow, guiding you to sit down.

He sighs softly as he gets comfortable. "Well, we've been together for some time now," he starts, and you can tell that he's nervous. "Over a year now, which is crazy to me," he huffs, like he can't believe it, and hell, you can't really believe it either. "I just wanted to do something to celebrate that, and I thought you'd like the stars too."

You look up at the sky, not even realizing that you can see what seems like a million stars. You gasp as you look across the dark sky, and you hear him shift next to you, so you look back at him. Your eyes widen again when you see a small box in his hand, and you scoot a bit closer to him.

"Please don't tell me that's what I think it is."

He laughs, letting his head fall for a second before he shakes it. "No, it's not. I'd choose a much better setup when I propose to you." Your heart swells at his words, choosing to stay silent. He opens the box, revealing a gold ring. He takes it out, holding it up to you as he sets the box aside. "This is a promise that I'll keep you safe for the rest of our lives. That I'll always find you no matter what situations come at us in the future."

You look at the ring, dipping your head a bit to see that the inside is engraved. He shifts it, so that you can see the words in the moon and candlelight.

I'll always find you, and I'll always love you

"Toshi," you breathe after you read it, and he grabs your hand, sliding it onto your finger. You rub your finger over it as you admire it. You surge forward to kiss him, knocking him back. He catches himself quickly, holding you in his arms as he lays back against the blanket. "I love you."

"I love you, too, baby." You look at it again, giggling softly against your will, and he smiles as he watches you.

"Hey--"

He's cut off by a sudden explosion that has the both of you jumping up in an instant. You hear loud alarms going off, and the both of you are quick to stand up. Before you can even process what's happening, there's a helicopter flying over the house, and something falls from it.

Shinsou suddenly grabs you, jumping to the side. "Cover your ears!" You do it quickly, and even with your hands cupped tightly over your ears, you still hear the loud explosion as you hit the ground. Everything is spinning, and then you suddenly feel weightless. You scream as you fall through the roof, keeping your eyes closed and ears covered as Shinsou keeps you in his hold.

When it finally seems like your stomach settles, you look around, and the moment you take your hands off of your ears, the blaring of the alarms are nearly deafening. You try to move, but it hurts to move, and you look under to see Shinsou laying there. "Toshi!" you gasp. You wince as you move off of him, sitting up on your knees. "Toshi, baby, wake up!" you yell, shaking him. You lean forward with your hand on his chest, and you nearly cry when you feel he's still breathing.

You jump back when he gasps, sitting up quickly. He looks around, groaning loudly, and then he suddenly turns his attention to you. "I knew this was fucking trouble," he groans, and he reaches for your necklace, snatching it from your neck.

"Shinsou, my mom gave that to me!" you yell, and he throws it on the ground, taking a brick from the rubble and smashing it. You scream, about to yell at him again, but then he picks something up. Your body runs cold when you see what it is. "Oh, my God." You hold your hand over your neck. "My dad said that my mom left that when she left." It finally hits you. "This is all my fault."

Shinsou grimaces as he stands up, grabbing your hand to pull you up. "Focus, baby. We gotta get outta here." You let him lead the way through the rubble, and you hear more explosion throughout. It doesn't even look close to the house that you've been in for the last few months.

He takes a back way to where the car is, and you try to move as fast as you can, but once you get to the car, you hear something crackling. "Shinsou, you gotta get down here!" It's Denki, and it's coming from the radio that's attached to his hip. "Mina doesn't have time to send the files!"

Shinsou swears loudly. If they don't get those files out, then all of this was for nothing. "I'm on my way," he says back before throwing the radio on the ground.

"I'm going with you."

"Absolutely not," he states. He winces as he takes the keys out of his pocket, putting them into your hand. "You get into the car, and you drive as far as you can without stopping. Do not look back."

"Hitoshi, I am not leaving you!"

"Yes! Yes, you are! I promised you and your mom that I would keep you safe!" You still haven't let go of him, and you don't know if you have it in you. He moves forward suddenly, giving you a long kiss that nearly takes your breath away. "I love you."

"That sounds a lot like a "goodbye" I love you," you tell him.

"I'll always find you." He starts to leave, making sure that you don't follow him.

"Toshi, don't leave me," you say, tears forming in your eyes. "Toshi!" He doesn't stop, and you nearly scream in frustration as you watch him leave. "I love you!"

He finally turns around, giving you a big smile, and you watch him go for a little bit longer until you hear another explosion. You quickly get into the car as you sob, barely being able to see due to your tears blurring your vision. You keep driving until you get to the road, and you follow his instructions and keep driving. You can see the house in the distance, up in flames, and you will yourself to keep driving.

Immediately, there's a big explosion, way bigger than the ones before that makes the house exploded. You quickly stop the car, getting out as you scream Hitoshi's name. You cry louder and harder than before, but you suddenly hear something coming up the road. You're quick to get back in the car, speeding off, but there's no way you stop crying.

You make it to a motel once the gas tank is nearly empty. You slowly pull into a parking spot, and you turn the car off, the silence so loud that you can hear your ears ringing. You cry again when your eyes land on the ring on your finger, and your chest heaves before you scream as loud as you can.

You sit in the car crying until your head is pounding, and you find one of Shinsou's sweatshirts on the passenger seat. You grab it before getting out of the car, and you slowly make your way inside. The person at the check-in desk looks completely bored, which you don't blame them since it's around three in the morning, and there's no one out right now.

When you walk up to the desk, their tired eyes widen a bit in surprise as they take you in. You didn't even think about what you probably look like; covered in dust and probably with bruises and cuts, and to top it all off, there's dried and wet tear tracks on your face.

"I, uh, need a room for a couple of days," you whisper, and you rest your hands on the counter as the events hit you again.

"Is it just you?" they ask, and you look at your hand again, your lip trembling as you run your finger over the ring once again.

"My, um--" You take a deep breath, wiping the tears that fall. "My boyfriend is coming soon." Even though you saw the house explode, you still don't believe that he's dead. He wouldn't lie to you. "So, could you just give him a key when he gets here?"

"Y-Yeah, of course," they answer, nodding their head. They check you in, telling you to worry about paying later, and you thank them softly, taking the key and walking to your room.

You get in the shower as soon as you lock the door, wincing when the hot water hits all of the cuts on your body. You can't even look at yourself in the mirror when you get out, drying off before healing yourself up. You put a tank top and some shorts once you think you got everything, and you're glad that you didn't break anything.

You grab Shinsou's sweatshirt, putting it on before you get into bed. You roll over to look out of the window, and you cry again until you fall asleep.

~

For the past couple of days, you've woken up with a headache and terribly swollen eyes. You haven't left the room, only leaving the bed to go to the bathroom. You haven't eaten, but there isn't any part of you that's telling you that you're hungry. You've been staring out the window, watching the animals move the only thing that can keep you from crying until you start to think too much.

Every now and then you take a deep breath of the sweatshirt, as that's the only thing that smells like him that you have. You tried to watch TV, but the first thing that came on was the news reporting about the house explosion. You immediately turned it off as you felt that lump in your throat appear again.

By the time a week has passed, you don't feel any better, but your body is screaming for some food. You forced yourself to eat some snacks, but it definitely wasn't enough. It takes a long time for you to get out of bed, but when you finally do, you make your way to the lobby to eat breakfast. You end up eating a lot, which isn't unexpected since you haven't had any real food in days.

You finish eating quickly since they have the news playing in the lobby, and you can't stand to listen to it anymore. You move the ring across your fingers as you walk back to your room, and you try your best not to cry again. You don't know if your head can take it anymore.

When you get into the room, the first thing you notice is that the bathroom door is closed and the light is on. You frown, immediately on edge, preparing to bolt out of the room. You definitely left it cracked, and you made sure the light was off. Before you can even move, the door swings open, and you're getting ready to bolt until you see who it is.

"How did you manage to get so far? Took me forever to get to this place."

You cross the room in a split second, jumping into Hitoshi's arms as you start to sob again.

"Ouch," he groans, but he hugs you tightly nonetheless. "Take it easy, will ya."

You lift your head up so you can kiss him, your hands trembling as you cup his face. "I-I thought--" You can't even finish, kissing him again until you're out of breath.

He rubs over your face, wiping your tears as he looks over your face. "What'd I tell you, baby?" he prompts. "I'll always find you."

[flightyquinn]

thinking about how cursed objects work in most fantasy RPGs.

typically, they wind up just kind of being a big middle finger from the game master - a kind of "whelp, you should have been more paranoid, so now you get hosed" sort of deal. which includes the somewhat game-y trope of objects that you can't get rid of. it's kind of an un-fun mechanic, when you think about it, which is why in most games I've been a part of cursed items often don't see much play, unless it's as a "punishment", or part of a story arc.

...which naturally leads me to think about how to do it better. in the past, I've tried using a curse as a kind of limiter. restrictions or drawbacks to a mostly functional item that is still worth using despite being "cursed". that's good, but it doesn't let you draw on truly nasty curses, because the item needs to be worth using, but also still needs to be balanced.

so, I'm drawing from a lot of sources here, like the cursed shield in Final Fantasy VI, and especially the comics by @foldingfittedsheets, where curses exist to (literally) teach the recipient a lesson

MEAT OF THE POST STARTS HERE:

what about cursed items that have a way to overcome their curse?

it's actually a fairly common trope in classical literature / fairy tales. every curse has a way to be broken. yet in D&D and Pathfinder, most often the only way to break a curse is to find someone with the specific curse-breaking spell.

so, give each cursed item a condition. perhaps a weapon that fuels a person's anger and causes them to fly into a blind rage in battle waits for them to sincerely forgive a hated enemy. perhaps boots that slow the wearer are actually making them heavy with the weight of past transgressions and a sufficient act of atonement will free them. maybe the perpetually bloody doll that gives its bearer horrible nightmares simply waits for someone to be motivated to action by them, either to right some past wrong, or generally bring a certain number of murderers to proper justice.

...maybe a Bag of Devouring. which is technically actually a creature, not a cursed item (but usually classified with them), can be befriended by figuring out a treat it likes, and will not only carry things for the player if fed and cared for, but even cough up a few things that previous bearers had stuffed inside.

the specifics aren't too important, but the idea is that any item with a curse on it has a reason for that curse, and a way to break it. the players can drop the item at any time, sell it off, give it to someone they hate, whatever, but if they put in the time and energy to actually breaking the curse, it becomes better than it was before, sometimes simply losing a drawback, or sometimes gaining new powers.

for an example, let's look at how that doll idea from earlier could work in D&D 5e;

while the party has the doll in their possession, they will all be afflicted by horrible nightmares, seeing themselves as children being attacked by a group of eight bandits with indistinct features. the details of the dreams change each night, and the players awaken before learning their ultimate fate, but the general gist is always that they are completely helpless, and subjected to harm.

after a long rest, have them roll a Wisdom or Charisma save (challenging DC, but not too difficult), or take a small amount of psychic damage.

if the players bring murderers to justice - meaning deliver them to the proper authorities and see them punished for their crimes - the content of the dreams starts to change. one bandit gets caught or killed by the end of the dream for each real world criminal successfully punished, possibly hinting to the players what they need to do. once eight murderers in total have had their sentences enacted, the next morning the doll will be in pristine condition with a serene expression, emitting a faint glow. thereafter, any player may attune to the doll to gain the ability to cast the Guidance cantrip without components (as thought the doll's ability to project what it wants the players to do into their mind was turned to their benefit.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Shibuya Arc scenarios that live in my head rent free pt l

Getting sealed along with Gojo

Geto awakening by the sound of your voice

Word Count: 3,1k

Warnings: these hurt pretty bad; language

Getting sealed along with Gojo

It wasn’t the easiest task to get this far. The curtains of these fucking curses were not that easy to overcome, let alone unnoticed. But now you’re here. You finally made it to the train track where Satoru Gojo should be found. Satoru, your precious boyfriend of three years. Satoru, the jerk who left you alone at home without telling you a single damn word about Shibuya getting flooded by curses.

Your face is screwed up in nothing but anger while you scan the area for him. He has some fucking nerve. You’re a grade 1 sorcerer, very much needed in times like these. Who does he think he is to simply leave you in the unknown?

It isn’t hard to sense his immense powers. Without any effort, you smoothly glide over what looks like a crime scene. So many corpses of not only curses, but humans. What the hell happened here? And who did all of this?

Time seems to stand still when you finally catch a glimpse of him. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This isn’t really happening, right? Your souls seems to leave your body behind, empty shell staring at the scene in front of you.

“Oh, look who decided to join us on this lovely day! Nice to see you again, (y/n)!”

It’s Geto’s voice and his so painful familiar appearance. Salty tears start to sting your eyes, memories of your last encounter begin to flood your mind uncontrollably. As much as you wished this was true, this has to be a cruel joke, an optical illusion.

“What the hell are you doing here, (y/n)? Get out of this place right now”, Gojo yells at you with an aggression in his voice that you’ve never heard before.

You flinch for a second, too overwhelmed by the act in front of you. Why on earth is your boyfriend tied into place and who was even able to do so? What is this thing with Geto’s appearance? What the hell is going on here?

“Oh, don’t be a spoilsport, Satoru. Let (y/n) watch while I seal you. Too bad you won’t see here die then…Well, you can’t have everything at once I guess”, the shell of Geto comments.

“Sealed?”, you repeat incredulously.

Panic crawls through your veins, for a second you feel like fainting. You know all too well what that means. Getting sealed is another definition for getting killed. Even Satoru, the strongest of all…

What if he won’t make it? What if you’ll never see your boyfriend again? The sheer thought of being forced to live without him kills you from the inside and makes your former anger vanish in thin air. You’ve been through hell and back, grieved over Suguru when he died, fought battle over battle on each other’s side, taught the young ones with all your heart. But most importantly, you loved each other dearly every time your hearts beat, in good and bad times.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be back”, Gojo assures you, a cheeky smile plastered on his face.

“Do you know what getting sealed means, idiot?”, you cry out, tears now staining your face.

“She’s kinda right, Satoru…”

“It means we might never see again, it means you would’ve left me home alone knowing that this might be the last time you’re stepping through our door.”

The pain that is dripping from your voice is hard to bear for Satoru. He knows you have every right to be absolutely furious at him, that getting sealed is a challenge even for him he isn’t 100% sure about.

“But I couldn’t afford to live with the thought of losing you, (y/n)”, he replies, eyes locking with yours.

“I can’t let you go like that. It simply can’t end like this. I…I won’t let this happen!”, you scream on top of your lungs.

“As much as I enjoyed the show, it’s over now. Good night, Satoru Gojo. Let us meet again in the new world”, Geto speaks out.

Your mind races while the sealing begins to tighten itself around your boyfriend. What are you supposed to do? Are you able to stop it? No, absolutely not. If Satoru can’t stop himself from getting sealed, there is no chance that you can. Pictures of your precious shared moments, of his striking smile and his tight hugs linger through your mind. You can’t afford to lose him, a life without Satoru would be useless. You need to make a decision.

Satoru isn’t even able to react when you start sprinting towards him, vision clouded by pure determination. Just the split of a second before your limbs get cut off by the seal, you are able to press your body against his and get soaked up in the innocent dice along with him.

“(y/n)”, he breathes out.

Slowly but surely, he opens up his eyes. No, this can’t be true, this has to be a bad dream, right? You can’t be with him in this prison, not trapped for eternity. But the way your arms are tightly wrapped around him is proof enough for your presence. You are here. You’ve got sealed along with him.

“Why on earth did you do that?”

“I can’t be without you. I’d rather die by your side than live without you!”, you bawl, pressing yourself against his body as hard as you can.

“(y/n), why didn’t you do what I told you, why did you come to Shibuya in the first place? You shouldn’t be here, especially because you know what being sealed means. I…I don’t have a definite plan on how I’m getting out of here yet! Why did you have to hold onto me!?”, he insists, grabbing your face roughly and forcing you to look at him while the violent tone in his loud voice shatters your heart.

Your whole life was ahead of you. Sure, Satoru would have missed you every time his heart beats, but missing you doesn’t hurt as much as destroying your whole damn life. He would have never asked such a thing from you. Never. And even though he himself wants so spend his so desperately by your side, this surely isn’t what he wanted.

“Because I love you, Satoru!”, you scream out.

He breathes heavy, eyes completely lost in yours while you cry your heart out. Fuck, you shouldn’t be here, this didn’t go as planned at all. He knew about the risks, that this mission will cost countless lives and yours definitely shouldn’t be one of them. He’d rather die himself than taking your life away from you. But now you’re here, sealed along with him.

“I love you too, (y/n). That’s why I wanted to protect you. That’s why I wanted you to stay in our apartment”, he murmurs.

Satoru can’t hold it back any longer. Without thinking twice, he wraps his strong arms around you, holds you close against his chest, strokes your head gently just like you deserve it. This was dumb, this was reckless, this might cost you your life.

But you did it for him. You did it because your love for him is greater than your fear of dying. And that’s probably the biggest proof of love that exists.

“I’ll promise you we’ll make it out of here, okay?”

“That doesn’t matter to me. As long as you are here, I’m happy”, you reply without thinking twice.

He pulls you in for a passionate kiss. Maybe love is the most twisted curse of all, but you’ll make it out together, he just knows it.

Your sacrifice won't be useless.

Suguru awakening by the sound of your voice

You heard rumors in the underground for a while now – rumors about Geto Suguru suddenly being alive again. And even though you would give your very own life for that being true, you just know it can’t be possible. After all, you were there. Back then, when he died through the hands of fucking Satoru Gojo and his student.

You know you shouldn’t be here, that searching at Shibuya is dumb and reckless considering the fact that you’re not bonding with the other jujutsu sorcerers, but also definitely not with the curses that roam around this area either. It’s stupid, but you simply can’t help yourself.

The little spark of hope that the love of your life might still be around haunts you down the crowded streets of Shibuya. You never really had the time to say goodbye to Suguru. After all the things you’ve been through together, building an empire to get rid of all those monkeys, building your very own life together and growing on each other, you could only stare in disbelief at his dead body. So many years. So many years he stood by your side, lifted you up when you were down, cuddled you into sleep, treated you like the most precious treasure on earth.

Maybe he did make it somehow, though. Maybe it was his plan all this time that everyone around him thinks he’s dead. If you haven’t seen it with your very own eyes, you’ll simply refuse to give up the idea of him still walking on this earth.

You just want your Suguru back.

Your ears perk up when you hear his familiar voice and you can’t help but sign in annoyance. Of course Satoru Gojo has to be here, trying to save as many monkeys as possible. But where he is, there’s action. And where action is you’ll probably find Suguru.

With neckbreaking speed you run down the underground tracks, screams and cries of pain and grief ringing louder and louder. Shivers run down your spine before you can stop them, a scenery of absolute horror reveals itself in front of your eyes. Deformed and dead curses plastered on the floor along with a few corpses of humans here and there. You can tell by the look in their frightened eyes that they’ve seen some horrible things. Huh, you couldn’t care less though. After all, you’re only here for Suguru. You don’t give a damn about some monkeys.

“I don’t know who you are, but you’re not Suguru Geto!”

Your feet pick up their pace immediately, heart starting to hammer against your chest. That was Satoru. And he said his name. Is it really possible that your Suguru is here? Are rumors true after all? Until this moment, you never allowed yourself a single spark of excitement. But now that even Satoru said it you can’t help but grin from ear to ear, literally levitating into the direction of Satoru’s voice.

And then you hear it, loud and clearly. The sweet voice of your boyfriend, the love of your life. The voice you never imagined to ever hear again.

“Suguru?”, you cry out.

Time stands still when you catch a glimpse of him. Oh, he looks as handsome as ever, a wide grin plastered on his face while talking to Satoru. But something about his appearance makes your heart drop. You can sense that it’s his cursed technique, your eyes tell you clearly that this is Geto Suguru.

But your heart just knows this isn’t him.

“Is that really you, (y/n)?”, he questions when his brown eyes meet yours.

But they aren’t glimmering in excitement like they used to, his smile isn’t as wide as it was when you last saw him. No, everything inside of you screams in your face that it can’t be him, that this is the shell of the man you used to love. You want to break down and cry, to grieve losing the love of your life again.

But you swallow the lump in your throat away. Whoever this is needs to pay for using Geto’s legacy. And you’ll make sure he will.

“So it’s true, you really are still alive!”, you breathe out while running towards him.

Oh, you want nothing more than to die when he embraces you in a hug, his arms feeling just like they did back then. His smells tingles in your nose, reminds you of the countless nights you wore his shirts to bed and how you always sniffed on his clothing before washing it. You loved this man with every fiber of your being.

“Life itself, darling”, the voice of Suguru confirms, his hand stroking your hair just how you like it.

“This isn’t him, (y/n)! This is not your boyfriend!”, Gojo shouts in your direction, making you almost lose your cool.

You want to scream into his face, want to break down in tears. But instead, you burry your face in Suguru’s neck to stop yourself from crying.

“Shut up, Satoru. You’re ruining the moment.”

Whoever controls Suguru needs to truly believe that you’re on his side, that you are convinced he’s in fact Suguru. If that thing is able to control his body, it might as well be capable of using his cursed technique. And you know that you can’t stand a chance against him.

“I thought you were dead”, you hush, his hand gently lifts your head.

“But as you see, I’m clearly alive. I’m so sorry for not reaching out to you, my love. But this is a part of my plan. I couldn’t afford to get you involved into this mess”, he explains briefly, a warm smile playing around his lips while his eyes lock with yours.

“I’m so glad you’re back…”

“Did I tell you how much I love you already?”

“Go to bed darling, it’s way too late for you to be up.”

“Don’t worry my love, I’ll be back by your side as soon as I killed that boy. Have fun at the night parade.”

You blink away the tears that form in your eyes when memories begin to flood your mind over and over again. This has to end right here and now.

One last hug. You need to hug his body one final time. Just one sweet moment of pretending that Suguru is actually here, that you’re not talking with his empty shell.

“But you aren’t the man I loved.”

 With a swift motion, you pull out your cursed gun and aim for his head, ready to shoot the man you love.

But you can’t.

Faster than you are able to react, he grabs your wrist so roughly that your gun falls deafeningly to the ground. Your heart sinks into your chest, sight clouded by thick anger and hot tears.

“Nice try. But I know you’re usually smarter than that, (y/n).”

“How dare you to use his body like that…I will make you pay for every damn minute that you defile him! Get out of his body!”, you scream on top of your lungs.

Over and over, you fight against his firm grip, try to escape his cruel laughter while his eyes seem to pierce right through you. But he’s too damn strong and you weren’t prepared for something like this.

Violently, he grabs you by the throat, feet floating in the air while it feels as if your windpipe is going to rip every minute. You can’t catch your breath. With every passing second, your body refuses to fight back, vision already starting to get blurry by the lack of oxygen and blood pumping through your veins.

Is this really how it ends? Are you really dying through the hands of your former lover? How pathetic, how bittersweet. At least you’ll be by his side when you meet again, with your Suguru.

“I always loved you, Suguru”, you cough out.

Suddenly, his firm grip loosens and before you can catch yourself, you fall to the ground, gasping for air like a fish on land. What the hell happened? Why did he let go? Through watery eyes, you stare at the scenery unfolding in front of you. Suguru’s hand is wrapped around is very own neck, strangling himself so violently that he gasps for air.

“How interesting, that never happened!”, Suguru’s voice announces.

And then he stretches out his other hand. Into your direction, as if he’s trying to lift you off the ground. Tears start to swell up your eyes all over again as you take it. His fingers gently intertwine with yours, just like they always used to.

“I love the way your hands fit in mine.”

“The whole world should know that you are mine, darling.”

“Suguru”, you whisper with trembling voice.

It’s him. It just has to be him, you can feel it. Tenderly, he caresses your thumb while you completely break down. Fuck, you miss him so much. You want nothing more than your Suguru back. Why? Why did he have to die? Why did you even hope that he might be back? What a cruel joke all of this is, ripping open your party healed wounds all over again.

“I want you back”, you cry out, making even Satoru swallow heavy.

His index finger shakes telling you no before his hand swallows yours one last time.

You know that you can’t stay here like this forever, that Suguru’s remaining won’t be able to fight back too long, so you make the decision that tears you apart.

With one last loving press of his hands, you let him go forever even though it shatters your heart. The man in front of you might have Suguru’s voice, appearance and memories, but this isn’t him. You have to accept that the love of your life is gone.

“If you really think you can control Suguru like that you have to be a little dumb. He’s way too strong to get overpowers by some parasite. I will come back. And I will kill you for what you did to him”, you hiss.

“I’ll be waiting for you, darling.”

Darling. Yes, you’ll always be Suguru’s darling. But that won’t stop you from ripping his body apart if you have to. At least know you know that he’ll always be by your side.

Always.

[finalvortex]

Completely overanalysing Shadow Generations: Dark Beginnings Episode 1

The opening is a deliberate parallel to the scene leading into Maria's death (images taken here from Shadow '05, although this scene is also in SA2). If you're paying attention you can immediately tell it's a fakeout, though: there's no alarm blaring, the lighting is blue rather than red, and Maria is pulling Shadow along instead of the other way around.

It's the aurora borealis. You can only see them from certain latitudes down there, but up here, we can see the whole...

Maria's a nerd.

Shadow is immediately prepared to catch Maria when she collapses.

The low gravity here only keeps your condition in remission. You should know better than to exert yourself.

This is new information I think? I don't think this makes scientific sense but I guess it provides a justification for why Maria is up here aboard the ARK beyond 'that's where the research is being done'. Only, the ARK was a space colony, there were other civilians aboard it as well, like the future GUN commander.

I can't wait for the day when we can finally return. I was created here. I don't know if there's a place for me on Earth.

I just wanted to highlight this exchange as significant to Shadow's overall character arc across his history, being one where he has carved out a place for himself on earth.

Love the way Maria comforts shadow here.

You and grandfather are doing your best. I'm just as happy to spend time with you here, while you both research-

I think this is just awkward wording, but surely Shadow isn't doing any researching?

My boyyyy

Hull breach in the experimental weapons wing! Multiple subjects are free of containment!

Multiple subjects? Given the events of Lost Impact, things are just escaping from here all the time, huh.

Here's the entries on this incident from Gerald's journal in Sonic Battle:

The higher ups are threatening to shut down this research facility. I had no choice but to hand them the Gizoid to buy more time for my research. I tried to be careful and commanded it to never absorb any dangerous technologies. However, I have heard that other researchers have been making the Gizoid absorb weapons. Apparently, the way to cause the Gizoid to form a new "Link" is to show it power that surpasses that of its former master. While this poses immense danger, I cannot risk losing Maria.

My worst fears have come true. The Gizoid has absorbed enough weaponry and technology that it has started to go out of control. The resulting rampage resulted in the destruction of most of the "Ark." ... I have deciphered the rest of the stone tablet. It says, "When the Gizoid had learned all that it could, it became a god of wrath, and all was destroyed." The researchers somehow managed to subdue the Gizoid and sealed it away.

That robot was heading towards Grandfather's lab! Shadow, you have to save him!

Why was Emerl - uh, well, I guess Project Gizoid at this point - headed directly for Gerald? If he was overloaded with power, like at the end of Sonic Battle, he should just be destroying things indiscriminately, right? So... was this a deliberate ploy by GUN to get rid of Gerald?

Maria grabbing Shadow's hand breaks the illusion briefly and triggers a trauma-induced flashback (forward?) to the GUN soldier shooting her. Compare with the actual scene from Shadow '05:

Again, why is Emerl specifically targeting Gerald here?

Not much to say about the fight scene aside from the fact that it's really well animated, and it happens with no background music to emphasize the weight of the blows being thrown. It's also really cool how Emerl copies Shadow's spin attack - you don't need to know how the Gizoid functions for that to be a cool visual, but it's a nice nod if you do.

Ok this is really confusing me. Is there any mention of GUN having a space fleet anywhere? Where did these things come from? They don't even share the same aesthetic as other GUN vehicles, they look more like the Egg Fleet.

Nice look at Shadow's Air Shoes from below the glass floor.

Next Shadow lands into Gerald's cell on Prison Island, which raises the question: why is this in Shadow's memories? Is this just his memory of the recording from SA2? Or was Shadow not put on ice until after Gerald's execution? We know it wasn't immediately after the ARK was destroyed, since he was around long enough for Gerald to alter his memories.

There is a bit of static distortion here, with an analog effect that implies it might just be the video.

On the other hand, we actually get these very brief flashes of Gerald's execution here, which we don't see in SA2 itself.

The professor gets farther and farther away from Shadow. He can no longer reach him.

Shadow then falls into a red sky, with bits of debris floating all around him, reflecting the final battle against Devil Doom in Shadow '05.

Interestingly, this scene is mixing imagery from both Gerald and Maria's deaths. The image of the GUN soldiers is the firing line that killed Gerald, and the sound of the lightning turns into automatic gunfire, as opposed to the single pistol shot that killed Maria.

Finally, Shadow falls into the giant face and outstretched hands of Black Doom.

Waking up from his nightmare in a panic, Shadow uses that damn fourth chaos emerald* to Chaos Spear this unfortunate tree.

*Okay, the fourth chaos emerald was the white one.

The moon looks so good.

Shadow stands in a field surrounded by lilies, a flower which can be used to symbolise purity as well as death, and is a flower commonly used at funerals. In particular, they are often placed on the graves of children.

That was no mere nightmare. And it all began in view of the ARK. Could he have survived? No, that can't be. I need answers.

Shadow seems to think the sight of the ARK is what triggered this nightmare. I think the only 'he' that makes sense here is Black Doom, since Gerald and Emerl are both pretty definitively dead.

Based on the trailer, I think from here Shadow is going to collect Team Dark to raid an Eggman base so they can obtain a rocket to get up to the ARK.

The song that plays over the credits is a remix of Throw it All Away. I have no idea why it shows footage of the biolizard fight, beyond "this is the Sonic Adventure 2 focused episode".

[lover-of-mine]

I just had a thought regarding the “Tim should punish Buddie fans” of it all. Because at the end of the day it’s a TV show, the thing they care most about is ratings. Tim has admitted that the show got worse and ratings got worse when he stopped writing Buddie scenes (something I’m sure ABC is very aware of). So it honestly shouldn’t matter if some Buddie fans are annoying - we represent the majority opinion, which affects the ratings. Yeah they may lose some of the gained viewers from the BT stans if they breakup but it’s nothing on the viewers they’ll lose if they force Eddie into another straight relationship and separate Buck and Eddie for separate endgames.

Okay, pure speculation here, but the show is a business as much as it is a story and a show has to deal with stuff a book or a movie don't. Since the story is not contained, they need to adapt to the circumstances in which it is airing. We know for a fact that fox was against Buck being bi and that gives us the chance to infer that they were against the buddie thing as a whole. We know this was supposed to happen during s4, we know s5 separates Buck and Eddie physically since Eddie leaves the station, so that reduces their screentime without major problems because while we were getting less casual buddie since they weren't working together, we got a lot of quality buddie during Eddie's breakdown. They continued to reduce the Buck and Eddie of it all during 6a. No one was happy about it. We were NOT happy that we were missing out on their dynamic except for a few moments that were thrown in. That so created a problem that they overcorrect that in 6b. We all knew the lightning was coming but the promo had a lot of Eddie's reaction to it, we even got a bts video of Ryan running up the ladder, the do more was the teaser scene we got, when we got recovery and mixed feelings, with recovery giving us some quality buddie, and mixed feelings giving us a lot of buddie overall. Obviously, the threat of cancellation made them shift things around, we know there were reshoots, we know they tried to wrap things up in case that was the final season, and that made them drop the ball with buddie for a second there after the cemetery, but they fixed that during s7, because there was a LOT of buddie, especially considering it was reduced season. Abc has a lot of good queer rep, they seem to like their glaad awards nominations. We obviously have no idea of why fox was blocking biBuck, and again, pure speculation, but I am willing to bet you that the buddie of it all was part of the conversation while the buy was being negotiated or at least while they were discussing the plans to integrate 911 to abc once the buy was finalized. The abc people have an outside perspective on buddie, the same way we do, and buddie is a compelling dynamic that can be a gold mine if they play their cards right. If, I, a random person on the internet with a blog and hyperfixation and nothing to gain from it, can reach the conclusion that getting buddie together can bring them a shit load of exposure, I guarantee you that someone there reached that conclusion too. I believe they sat down with the team and asked "what's the deal with Buck and Eddie? Is there a plan?" and they reached some conclusion to finally get them there because they took Ryan out of pr jail and continuously put Oliver and Ryan together leading up to the season and the Buck and Eddie talk did not stop once Buck being bi was canonically confirmed.

Logistically, if the plan was to simply make Buck bi and not make the Buck and Eddie a thing, obviously, Eddie wouldn't be involved with Buck's bi arc the way he is in the story, but they would also not involve Ryan in the promotion with Oliver like that. It's 2024, no one wants queerbaiting allegations thrown at them. We lived through the mcu, and teen wolf, and supernatural, and no one wants to be that guy. They have a compelling dynamic that's been drawing people in for years, and they could've gone the whole show with both of them being perceived as straight in universe, keep doing what they were doing, leave us in the will they/won't they, and keep our part of the audience forever because we would keep coming back waiting to see them together. Personally, I think Buck being bi was a trial run in many ways from the business side of it. Buck is extremely well liked by the audience, he is a fan favorite, so people are a lot more lenient with his shit than other characters, that means that if Buck being bi was poorly received by the general audience, they could backtrack him out of it a lot easier and just introduce another pretty girl and not go there. Male bisexual rep is also not all that common, it's usually the pretty girl best friend that you later find out had a girlfriend in college who may or may not be in love with the female lead, so it stands on its own in the conversation. And, well, Buck being bi was extremely well received. Ship war aside, there is a significant part of the new influx of people who are just as invested in the Buck and Eddie of it all even with another male love interest in the mix. And there was a huge influx of people. Somewhere in the 911 team, someone is making predictions and they are aware that Eddie being queer will have the same type of reaction. Eddie might not be as popular as Buck on his own, but with the added fact that queer Eddie means buddie is coming, they get the same boom that biBuck had. They also became the first media to do this. No superhell, no complicated feelings for a car, no going back to the past. Just a compelling relationship between two male characters that's been drawing people in since the beginning that changed into something romantic and requited. They would be the first to take the popular m/m ship that drives the internet crazy and make it happen. I know of a lot of traumatized destiel or sterek or stucky or whatever else who are waiting for Eddie to be confirmed queer to start watching the show with the whole 911 already had queer rep, Buck being bi is no guarantee they'll follow through, I don't wanna be disappointed again. Which is fair, but it is a second wave of people that could come into the show. Buck and Eddie are unheard of rep. It's a 6+ seasons queer slowburn. They are best friends, they have a kid, their devotion to each other is very clear. Abc has the chance to go full Elle Woods "what like it's hard?" to every queerbaity ship that came before buddie. Especially considering we have Oliver on record multiple times saying fox was blocking it. And that would make them so much money. So much exposure. We're talking become subjects in television history classes for the rest of times because they were the first to pull through. We're not just talking ratings, we're talking being put next to genre-defining couples in media. They are a gold mine that Oliver and Ryan are on board with, that Tim seems to be on board with and that abc clearly likes using for promotion so they at least understand the numbers they could bring, so not going there because a fraction of the fandom is being bitchy on the internet is bad business.

Season 6 gave them the perfect opening to separate Buck and Eddie but they used season 7 to bring them closer together than they've ever been. If the plan was to make them end up with other people, they had the chance to make that clear this season, and they didn't. They're not gonna throw it away like this to "punish fans". They would be punishing themselves.

[acotar-taylorsversion]

Thoughts and Takes As I Re-Read the ACOTAR Series

This is extremely long and I have been typing it for weeks now. These are just my thoughts and I am typing them as I go. If you read it, I hope you enjoy it and maybe we can agree on most things. I would really love to hear everyone else's thoughts, too! 🙂

I don't feel like people blame papa archeron nearly as much as they should. It should not have been any of the sisters' responsibility to do what Feyre did. And after reading Nesta's POV, I don't blame Nesta for being so cold and hateful towards her father.

Lucien annoyed me so much in ACOTAR so much so that it was hard to like him in ACOMAF but I really tried to like him and give him a chance when Sarah made him Elain's mate and I realized that he could have a big role in ACOWAR.

I believe Tamlin had his redemption arc in ACOWAR when he saved Feyre and Az when they were rescuing Elain and then again when he saved Rhys. But I don't think Sarah will explore his story and she might be keeping him alive right now so that he can die at the right time.

After what Tamlin did to her and then allying with Hybern, I don't blame Feyre for ruining his court. He deserved it.

I don't think Ianthe suffered enough and I think that Nesta or Elain should have been the ones to have killed her.

Elain and Az were obvious to me in ACOMAF, just like Nesta and Cassian were and I was truly truly shocked when sarah made Lucien Elain's mate. I believe that there is so much more to that night than we know about and we'll learn about it when we get to Elain & Az's POVs. I believe that the bloodbane in Az's blood was killing him and nullified any bond that could have been there even before Elain was turned. Az was shot with the arrow before they went up to the throne room and that is why Lucien showed signs of mate behavior once Elain showed up. I believe the cauldron was wrong.

That being said, I tried to give Lucien a chance in ACOWAR and he just gave me the ick when talking about Elain. It didn't feel right to hear him say that he wanted to "see if she was worth it." Like she should already be worth it. Don't hesitate. I just did not see it at all.

I think that LoA will be the one to kill Beron. Don't know why, but I just feel that she will lose it and run to Helion.

Sarah had every opportunity to set Elucien up and she didn't. I believe she set them up for failure from the get-go. She instead focused on Elain and Az. I could do an entirely separate post about Elain, Lucien, and Az.

I believe Mor and Eris are mates, especially after what was said in ACOSF. I believe that he knows that she prefers females and wanted to save her from a loveless, unsatisfying marriage. I do think that he handled it wrong. Like that whole situation could have been handled so much better.

I think the whole Mor, Az, and Cassian situation was extremely weird. And now that Cassian is with Nesta and Az could possibly be with Elain, maybe Mor can finally move on and be free and not hide anything anymore. I wish that Mor would have talked to Nesta in ACOSF and explained and apologized for everything. Maybe she'll sit both the sisters down and talk about it one day.

I think Amren and Varian are cute together, but I think Amren should have stayed dead. Sarah is notorious for killing and then unkilling her characters and I think that gets old. I believe that sarah brought her back as a way to keep the summer court involved with the night court and to have a "know it all" character.

I think that Feyre and Rhys have a true, soul mate, true love, fairytale mating bond and I think Nesta and Cassian have a more realistic one. Feyre and Rhys fell in love before the bond was accepted and Nesta and Cassian were just beginning to fall in love before the bond was accepted. Lust and attraction and the pull of the bond is what truly brought them together but they quickly fell in love with each other.

I hate all the hate that Nessian is getting. People who say that Nesta should get with Eris literally make me sick and I want to throw ACOSF at them. They obviously need a to read it again. People need to realize that Nesta was in the wrong in HOFAS and Rhys had every right to freak out like he did and Nesta needed to be yelled at for that. I don't blame Cassian for not stepping in. And people forget how sarcastic Nesta is and they actually take her seriously when she said that Rhys debated executing her. Like do yall really think Cassian and Feyre would allow that or that Rhys would do that to his brother and his mate?? Like come on now.

Speaking of Rhys, I don't think he was wrong for keeping the danger of feyre's pregnancy from her. As a mother of 3 myself, I would be terrified every single day if I knew that my pregnancy could end with the death of myself and/or my baby. Like I would not want to know. Pregnancy is stressful enough as it is, even with healthy ones. And this is why I don't think he was wrong for freaking out on Nesta. I mean, he almost lost his mate, his son, and his life like what, 6 months before that? Like I can't imagine how scared Rhys is every day knowing that he almost lost everything and then Nesta gave a STRANGER a MADE OBJECT from the trove and could have LOST IT to the ASTERI who could have come to their world and DESTROYED them all. GIVE RHYS A BREAK YOU GUYS!!!!! I love Nesta, love her to death, but she was wrong for that.

I have my thoughts on Gwyn. I think she's a lightsinger. I think that is what Az's shadows react to, just like Nesta reacts to her. I don't think her and Az are mates. I don't think she's attracted to Az at all. I think she wants to prove herself to him because he did see her on the most traumatic night of her life. I think she wants to prove to him and everyone around her that she is and can be strong. That's it. There is nothing more to her and Az other than trainer and trainee. I also think that Merrill is the one manipulating everything and everyone, including Gwyn who might not know that she's a lightsinger. I think Merrill is working with Koschei.

Even after all the books, I still believe that Elriel will happen. There's just too many canon moments for me to ignore to see the possibility of Elucien. I only say elucien because gwynriel isn't a canon couple. They are not canon at all. The only thing that elucien has going for them is their bond.

I think Lucien will reject the bond for Elain. Lucien isn't a bad guy. I don't think he'll fight for Elain when he knows that she does not want him or their bond. He won't let Elain become his mother. I think he will find happiness with Vassa and they will be like Elide and Lorcan.

I believe people who support elucien only care about Lucien. I mean, how could you think that Elain wants to be with him after reading the books?

Based on the story of Koschei, it's not crazy to assume it will be 3 sisters and 3 brothers. Sarah is a very predictable writer and this is what most of the fandom has expected since ACOMAF and Koschei being the last big bad confirms that. Especially when you add in Vassa and Lucien into the mix. Just read the story of Koschei and tell me I'm wrong.

I believe that Az is experiencing the effects of a mating bond with Elain. He acts more like her mate than Lucien does and there's canon proof of this.

I believe the only reason Rhys stopped Az and Elain that night was because 1. he was convinced he would die with Feyre when she gave birth and didn't want his court to be in this war with the autumn court and 2. he is a political figure and he is using elain's bond as leverage with lucien. I believe that if Elain expresses to him how she wants to reject the bond, he would support it and accept Elain and Az.

I hate how everyone focuses on Gwyn and forgets about Emerie. I don't understand why people think Gwyn would be involved with the Illyrians. She is not Ilyrian and even though she finished the blood rite, she has said she does not want that illyrian warrior title. After what she went through during the rite, I don't see her being involved with them in any way. I do believe we will hear about Emerie doing something more like that. She could be an inspiration to Ilyrian females. Speaking of the Valkyries, I don't think they should have won the blood rite. It was very unbelievable. It would have been more believable if they had hid the entire time and waited for Cassian to come find them when the week was over.

Speaking Gwyn again, I think most of her fans overhype her too much. I like Gwyn and I'm glad that Nesta has her as a friend because she needed that. But I don't think we'll ever get her POV. I mean, we heard her story. We know what happened to her and we know pretty much everything about her. We know that she doesn't want that warrior title and she went back to the library not even sure about going to Nesta's mating ceremony. I think her fans forget this. I think they see her as a self insert character. I think they over sexualize her way too much. I'm not saying that SA survivors can't have a sex life so don't come at me. I just don't think she's going to want to be tied up with ribbons while Az holds her down and "ravages" her. The same male who seen what she went through that night. That just makes me uncomfortable. I think Gwyn would be embarrassed by the majority of her fans.

I will another post about that bonus chapter because there is so much to discuss.

I hate the amount of hate Elain gets and the side of the fandom that hates her does not deserve her. There is so much to learn about her and her powers and what goes on in her mind and I can't wait for her book.

I also think that papa archeron unknowingly traded Elain and/or Feyre and Nesta in his deal with Koschei for Vassa's temporary release.

I don't understand how people could hate feysand or any other members of the inner circle. In my opinion, if you hate them then why are you reading the series?? Why are you still here?

I don't think that sarah will make Nesta or Elain an actual queen or high lady. I think that Rhys and Feyre will always be more powerful than them and I think they will be High King and High Queen when the series is over. I can't see sarah making the sisters having the same amount of power or say as much as Feyre. She has always been above them. That has been obvious since the beginning because she's always protected them and taken care of them.

If you guys remember my other posts, then you will know my thoughts on how I think the rest of the series will go. Like elriel, vassien, koschei, the queens, the prison, the dusk court, the trove, all that. Elain and Nesta are the keys and Vassa should be the one to destroy Koschei. Rhys and Feyre will be High King and High Queen with nessian and elriel at their sides and everyone lives happily ever after.

What do you guys think?

[bobtheacorn]

I think the thing that’s most compelling for me about the live action iteration of Luffy is that they’ve stripped away all the expectations of the Shonen Protagonist.

Right away they let him have some character growth and vulnerability that we didn’t get from the manga until several dozen or hundred chapter in! He’s allowed to be indecisive and to make the wrong call and to NOT know what to do and to get comfort and reassurance and advice from his friends!!!

Everything goes to shit - Zoro is mortally wounded by Mihawk - and after they drag Zoro’s bleeding body into the galley, Usopp is running around looking for the first aid kit and Nami is trying to staunch the bleeding and Luffy completely detaches himself from the moment because it’s more than he can process! He never for a moment thought Zoro would lose and here are the consequences. Nami has to call his name several times before he can even answer her! And even when he runs into the Baratie’s kitchen, he’s so flustered and upset that he’s nearly incoherent and the pathetic way he says “My friend is dying” is absolutely heartbreaking!

It’s such an interesting take to see so early on, because the few instances in the manga where Luffy has lost a fight or not know what to do or royally fucked up have been because he didn’t understand the situation or he wasn’t properly motivated, etc. His authority as captain and the whole “playing at pirates” thing isn’t even something that gets called into question until WATER 7, and it’s Zoro who calls him out because he’s so ready to forgive Usopp.

To do it NOW? During the East Blue arc???

To have it be Nami who tells him he’s shit at his job and that he Needs to take it more seriously because Zoro is DYING??

I’m frothing at the mouth about it tbh because Luffy takes that shit to heart - because it’s after this confrontation that Nami LEAVES. Luffy says it himself when he’s talking to Zoro while he’s unconscious. HE lost the grand line map, HE lost Nami, and HE feels responsible bc he might lose Zoro too!

All those failures - all that guilt - bothers the hell out of him and we get to SEE that!

Part of Manga Luffy’s charm apart from his emotional intuition is that he’s a lil fuckin bulldozer and he’s so arrogant and selfish and that head is empty zero thoughts 98 percent of the time - to soften those harder (arguably less palatable) traits and make live action Luffy just so fucking earnest and thoughtful and intelligent is such an incredible take I’m just obsessed with it! I’m eating it up!!! Bc he’s still LUFFY at his core!

He’s goofy and smiley and charming and fun and happy and easygoing and he’s dumb as hell and he’s constantly hungry and he loves to fight and he’s KIND and he sticks up for other people and he believes in himself!

He believes in other people’s dreams!

He doesn’t think you should let anything or anyone stand in your way!

He cares so much about his friends and he LOVES them and he’d die for them in a heartbeat!

But he’s also allowed to have a fucking panic attack when his friend is literally bleeding to death and oh boy do I love to see it!

[rawliverandgoronspice]

The Dondon Post (or: the bizarre TotK's side content counterpoints to its main quest's immuable binary morality)

Speaking of strange TotK Choices, I think I have one singe post left in me about this game; and it's about the Dondon quest, "The Beast and the Princess".

(and about other stuff too, you'll see, we'll get to them)

More specifically: about how... strange of a thematic point it feebly attemps to make in the larger context of the storyline, and how it seems to be yet another mark of a world that, perhaps, once tried to be more morally complex that it ended up becoming.

Buckle up: it's a long one, and it gets pretty conceptual.

(good gem boys notwhistanding)

The Princess and the Beast

So, a couple of things about the setup. We are investigating potential Princess sightings; but at this point, either because we have already completed a bunch and know the general gib, because we have met a couple of wild Fake Zelda shenanigans, or through the simple fact that we are completing a side quest, we know there's a good chance it won't lead to an actual Zelda information. So when we ask Penn about what is going on and he replies with the ominous "we saw the Princess riding some kind of beast --a frightening one with huge, brutal tusks-- that the princess seemed to control", we get Ideas. Then the sidequest is registered: "The Princess and the Beast".

So. You know me. And if you don't know me, here's what you should know: my brain immediately flared up with the thought there was no way in hell this wasn't some kind of wink towards Ganondorf's renowned boarish beast form, especially given tusks were given so much focus.

My first assumption was: that's a miniboss right? I will get to fight some small boar-like thing that Fake Zelda rides sometimes. Cool! I didn't hold too hard onto my hope that the relationship of Zelda and/or Ganondorf to the natural world, or to each other would be expanded upon, since I had already been burned before, but my interest was piqued.

You have to understand how starved I was for any hint of complexity or mystery or ambiguity at this point. I was extremely eager for the game to throw anything at me that would surprise me, enlighten something pre-established, make the exploration lead to a meaningful discovery or deepening of characters, world or themes (and not just slightly cooler loot, or a bossfight, or a puzzle devoid of emotional context --cohesion and depth is what motivates my play sessions, especially in an open world game that I want to believe is worth losing oneself into). This was about the most intriguing task on my to do list at the moment, and so I plunged in immediately.

After really REALLY misunderstanding what I was supposed to do (I stalked every corner of every forest surrounding the tropical area at night or during blood moons in hope to see something --which was very much the wrong call), I arrived to the other stable, then was guided to the other side of the river where Cima awaits and explains that these creatures are actually a new species discovered by Zelda; that they are gentle and kind and not at all scary ("Dondons aren't beastly, they're adorable!"), and even somehow digest luminous stones into gemstones. They like the company of people and liked Zelda in particular.

I was... I felt two different ways about this conclusion, and I think it's worth to explore both: disappointment and some sort of... "huh!" Hard to describe this emotion otherwise.

I'll get the disappointment out of the way first, because it's the least interesting of the two. While I think the little emotional arc I was taken on was not devoid of interest --I was indeed taken on by the rumor and intrigued by its implications-- I wanted, well. A little bit more. And if the creatures were to be Zelda's pet project, I would have loved for them to be actually terrifying and feisty, and for her to develop an interest for these creatures in particular regardless. It could have been very interesting characterization that veered out of the perfect princess loving the perfect world floundering around her, always bringing her clear, practical benefits from the interaction.

(I have made another post that speaks of my discomfort that Zelda does everything everywhere and everyone loves her for it --I get what they were trying to go for, but it either lacks conflict for me to buy into that dynamic at the scale of several regions, or they went on too hard for my taste, as she is, at once and in the span of a couple of years at most: a schoolteacher, a gardener, an animal researcher, a scholar, a traveler, a military expert, a knower of landscape, a painter, a horse rider, an infrastructure planner, a [...] princess --at some point it begins to sound made up, "Little Father of the people"-esque to rattle the hornet's nest a little bit, especially if it's not shown as either a clearly godly characteristic or, even more necessary imo, a negative trait; another expression of her killing herself at work to compensate for a perceived flaw she's trying to earn forgiveness for, like she did in BotW. But that's another topic, and the clumsiness of her character arc has been well threaded by basically everybody disappointed in the story already.)

But, if I decide to be a little graceful, I'd like to explore my "huh!" emotion, and take it apart a little bit.

I think there's something interesting to have such strong parallels to setting up a story about the relationship between Zelda and Ganondorf ("The Princess and the Beast", like come on guys that's the conflict of over half the series), or at least Zelda and the concept of Evil since Ganondorf pretty much represents it in this game, and then have it go: actually, there was a horrible monster that everyone was afraid of, but Zelda was wise and patient enough to approach it and realize its potential beyond the tusks, what beauty can be brought upon the world if one makes the effort to look for what exists underneath. It says something a bit deeper about the world and about Zelda in particular. It intrigues, at the very least.

Is it a reach? Probably! Is my first interpretation that the quest is actually about "eww you thought Zelda would be interested in *disgusting vile monsters* and not sweet and gentle and human-loving animals that literally shit jewlery when cared for? jokes on you, she never would feel any ounce of sympathy for anything that isn't Good and Deserving" uhhh definitively truer? Probably! But I also don't want to dismiss that the quest made me think about it. If I had completed it earlier, I might have even felt like it was (very clumsy, not gonna lie) setup about the main conflict.

But that's also a good segway into my next section: the arbitrary limitations between the animal and the creature, the monstrous and the human.

And the fact that TotK points directly at it.

A Monstrous Collection

(these two guys are just. doing So Much and being So Valid despite being massive weirdos the game wants us to be slightly repelled by. I, for one, respect the Monster kinning grind and their general Twilight Princess energy.)

So. These two guys. There is so much to say about these two guys. I don't think I have seen the Trans Perspective on Kolton on tumblr, and I would love to get it because. I feel like it's a worthwhile discussion (just, how gender and identity is handled in TotK overall, I feel like it's a very complicated conversation and I have not seen super deep dives and I'd be very interested in hearing more).

Beyond the throughline of voluntary consumption of magical objects to turn into less human creatures being a weirdly prevalent plot point in TotK (Zelda, Kolton and Ganondorf casually transing their entire species for funsies --Ganondorf being particularly relentless with Fake Zelda, mummy/phantom shenanigans, Demon King and then literal dragon), I want to focus on Kilton a little bit.

Kilton is genuinely the only NPC in the game willing to acknowledge the inherent personhood that monsters have (the game does showcase them picking up fruits, mourning their boss if you kill them, being cutesy and happy to identify you as one of their own if you wear the appropriate mask --and that's not even getting into creatures like the Lynels, who seem to really edge on the limit of being a conscious creature with a system of honor and property and many other things). He does encourage us to think of monsters as more than a species whose only worth lie in how fun it is to eradicate them; even more, gameplay-wise, he does give us a reason to interact with them in other ways than just our sword with his museum. He does encourage us to see that beauty for ourselves and then select what we think is coolest/most intimidating/cutest/eight billion ganondorfs in every pose imaginable

The fact that Ganondorf is considered a monster was a great win for this feature in particular, and is very funny, but it's also... A lot, if we dig at it a little more than warranted. Beyond all of the Implications and all of the things of representation and political conflict and values already discussed ad nauseum: when did he stop being considered a human? What does that mean about the flimsiness of what is a monster and what is a creature and what is an animal and what is a person and what is even a hylian, as sheikahs got absorbed into the definition in this game? Especially with the stones taken into account, how profound changes in nature are a huge part of the plot (even when reversed and ultimately pretty meaningless): how easy it is, to make that slip? Who decides when that slip has been made? What is acceptable to hurt without remorse? What is beautiful and worth preserving? What is both at once? What is neither?

And again, in a classic Zelda conundrum (appreciative(?)): who the fuck gets to decide that, when, and why?

The Bargainers and the Horned God

(major shoutout to these big guys for being the sole and only providers of actual depth to the Depths, and for looking cool as heck)

So. Let's move the conversation to the Depths.

Conceptually: what an interesting idea!! And so well executed (initially)!! A mirror world to the surface, dark and hushed and full of unknown creatures; haunted by gloom and sickness and the unknown. Not a first in the series, far from it: from ALTTP to ALBW, and even taking the Twilight world of TP into account, this idea of a Dark World acting as a deforming mirror to Hyrule and revealing many interesting aspects as we get to explore both is always a very interesting take on corruption and envy and fear/weakness and/or some sense of darkness looming under the perfect exterior. I'd argue even the Lens of Truth of both OoT and MM's serve a similar function, both gameplay-wise, but also in terms of theme: not everything is as it seems. In the world of Light, darkness must hide itself; but darkness also possess its own beauty, its own hardships, and will stare back at you without blinking if you go seek for it. It's, in my opinion, one of the series' most compelling conversation about the cyclical nature of fate, the coldness of godhood, and how small one feels in the face of a universe that is more complicated than it initially appears --which is why Courage must be invoked to push forward regardless.

The Depth's otherworldly ambiance is truy wonderful, whether in the plays of light and shadows, the creatures native to the environment we meet there (wish we met more!), the soundtrack, the strange aquatic/primordial plants, the fact that the dragons visit this place and connect them to the outside --invoking ideas of balance and interconnectivity, that the tree branches look like veins. The coliseums, the mines, the zonai facilities and the prisons do seem to poke at many things about what the relationship to the past was to this place; was it ever truly a place? Did it look like this back then? Why was it buried? Why did it come back? But in spite of it all, I think the Depths struggle overall to question or reveal anything about the surface that we couldn't already assume going in (that the only thing congealing there is Ganondorf's gloom, his lonely domain of Wrongness, only shared by Kohga and the yiga --the only naysayers of Goodness and Light, contemptful and blinded by self-importance and rage). The zonite is mined by gloomy monsters --why, what for?-- so any notion of greed and over-expansion that could have been associated to the zonai is now reabsorbed into Ganondorf's general evilness, since it needs to be reminded he is everything and anything bad with the world: darkness and conquest and greed and capitalism and pollution and bad weather and sickness and darkness and violence and war and death and betrayal and fakeness and lies and patriarchy and exploitation. No matter that he never does a single thing with zonite in the game; rather set up elements of conflict that never go anywhere than, for a second, let the foundations of absolute goodness and absolute evil risk becoming shaky --and you coming to this unwelcoming dark place that hates you, killing the miners and taking their resources for yourself is, on the other holy, royal fur-covered hand, utterly legitimate. The resources were once Rauru's after all, were they not?

And this is what I would say, except... except for the dead. The fallen warriors, the poes, and, most important of all: the Bargainer statues.

The Bargainers are, in-universe, godly creatures guiding the fallen to a place of final respite, regardless of moral alignment. The poes are all, fundamentally, cleansed of judgement: they are lost souls whose past reality does not matter anymore, and all deserve that peace regardless. In spite of the heavy paradise/hell parallels drawn in that game, with Rauru/Zelda/Sonia as the guardians of Light where Ganondorf gets to become a Devil-like figure, it is confirmed here that no such thing exists when you actually die in this universe.

It almost feels as if the fabric of Hyrule itself, in a brief moment that refuses to elaborate on its own point, goes: "yeah, whatever is happening here between Light and Darkness, it doesn't actually matter. This conflict is futile and doesn't understand the real nature of being alive, dead, a god, a person, a monster, an animal. The truth lies elsewhere --but you will never be told what it is."

It's: wild.

One of the game's most striking traits of narrative brilliance in my opinion --to the point where I'm wondering whether it's there on purpose or was effectively an oversight since every other aspect of reality breaks its own back trying to reassure us that everything is at its correct place, receiving the appropriate treatment by the universe in a way that is never to be questioned.

Another case of that ambiguity being allowed to exist without being immediately crushed and repressed is the case of the Horned God (interesting parallel to Ganon's actual horns that he develops in this game in case the hellish parallels weren't clear enough already): a demon Hylia sealed into stone and pushed far from humans in a clear case of questionable behavior since, while the Horned God isn't exactly nice, does propose a different philosophy you are not punished for exploring; and yet, a proposal that has seen itself persecuted in a very real sense by the goddess of absolute goodness, patron of hylians, Zelda, and many more. Pushed away from view.

Interesting.

And Yet, Light Must Prevail

Okay, so, after all of this, we're left to ask... What the fuck is up with morality in Tears of the Kingdom?!

What do we trust? These half-breaths in the occasional sidequests that Light and Darkness is just the wrong frame of reference, that nature cannot be this simple, is ever-shifting and can be recalled or reaffirmed by arbitrary forces, and might even not matter at all in the universe's fabric, despite having so much of its lore soaking in the dychotomy? Or... everything else about the game, this insistence that Good must not only be assumed as whatever tradition the kingdom has passed down for thousands upon thousands of years, but remain utterly unquestioned the entire time? That Bad is without cause, graceless and unworthy of investment?

Are the Bargainer's statues the only thing worth listening to, that morality is a fable the living tells themselves --or should we be moved when Darkness destroys Light, when Light suffers to preserve itself and the world --but not when the Other is rightfully slain?

Was Kilton correct to see beauty in the monstrous? Was Kolton onto something when he let go of his previous form because there is no clear distinction between what should receive an arrow to the face and what shouldn't? Or should we rather focus on Zelda losing her human form as a beautiful and tragic sacrifice --but something that never actually altered her nature as a hylian, the descendant of a lineage of Good Kings meant to rule forever?

Is the Dondon good because it always was, or was it worth Zelda's love in spite of the fear it initially provoked?

Either way, at the end of the game, evil is slain. Ganondorf is, not killed, but --like his angry BotW boar counterpart-- destroyed, as monsters tend to be. He explodes over the lands of Hyrule, freed from Darkness; freed from everything wrong, since the foreign menace that embodied it all was wiped out in one fateful sweep of a holy blade cradled in sacrificial love. Nothing wrong remains. The Sages reaffirm their vows to protect the kingdom forward, and a very human --hylian-- Zelda smiles: Hyrule now forever and ever basked in eternal Light.

[mike-milkyway]

Here's some thoughts I've been having about the ending of Thiller Bark as a luzosan shipper.

I just noticed how the luzo and zosan canon events in thriller bark are so close together, and its only more leverage for my luzosan delusions. I argue lusan in too because both Zoro and Sanji were fr arguing they should sacrifice in place of the other for their captain.

Though it's been talked about plenty, that whole exchange just shows their characters so well too:

> As I see it, Zoro is a man of his words, he swore to Luffy he'd never lose again in the Baratie arc, this to make both their dreams come true. Luffy is already hurt so he'll do what's in his power to protect him now and in the future. He's determined to live for Luffy.

> On the flip side, Sanji already sees a favour as a thing he doesn't deserve, so when someone "goes out of their way" to help him he repays them in a way someone who was taught to be loyal like a soldier, and to love with all he has. He's determined to die for Luffy.

They both have in common that they want to sacrifice, but it just doesn't sit right with Zoro that Sanji— even if he survives— would see Zoro allowing him to take the bullet as a confirmation of his destructive way of thinking. That's why I believe Zoro taking it made so much sense.

It just makes me ill how much Zoro and Sanji care about each other, and how committed they are to Luffy. You don't have to ship them, but by denying their bond and dumbing down the scene to "Zoro takes Luffy's pain because he's cool and Sanji was getting in the way of it." then you're just doing yourself a huge disservice.

One does not just write "You'll have to get yourselves another chef" next to the "nothing happened" scene just because 😭.