#this might be the first time i rage quit an entire game.

[roxtron]

i know barely anyone who follows me knows kh and i doubt anyone has played chain of memories but HOLYY SHIT. i am. so done with this game, it's driving me insane. I love the story to death but the FUCKING GAMEPLAY??? I genuinely have to wonder WHO APPROVED THIS??? Like, goddamn there is a REASON people hate it so much, and it's insane to me. Like. I've beaten some of the most difficult secret bosses in this series, chain of memories was the only game I didn't play yet (besides melody of memory but like.. that's a rythm game) and I'm just. I'm shocked. truly. I simply need to complain about it because it's just baffling that this is the final release and the combat system is so blatantly just unfair. For people who don't know the series and might still care for some reason: my most notable issue is the card reload system. you can only attack the enemy using cards, but every time you use a card you need to reload to use it again. Problem is sometimes your cards will become un-reloadable and that's just an unpreventable thing. Y'know what that means? YOU CAN GET SOFTLOCKED. SO EASILY. SO YOU CAN'T ATTACK, OR HEAL, OR DO ANYTHING. AT ALL. that alone is just AWFUL. You shouldn't be able to get softlocked like that, that's just insane to me. That and the fact the final boss has an attack that can kill you instantly, and if you die there you have to do the first phase all over again (and the first phase is not short, btw.) I am.. so tired. I don't wanna give up because I'm literally SO CLOSE.. but.. this is just objectively complete bullshit.. Worst part is they thought it was a good idea for the first phase to be a floating boss, meaning like, 80% of your attacks can't reach him, especially if you accidentally use a card combo meant for ground-combat. Augh.. I know probably nobody cares about this but. I needed to rant about it. This is painful.

[slasherscream]

the absolute INSANITY of the pushing your s/o away thing with the crazy ass boy gang… it’s like triggering a dog’s prey drive but for serial killers w abandonment issues

CRAZY ASS BOYS GANG + PUSHING THEIR HAND AWAY/REJECTING AFFECTION

❥ who gets pissed the fuck off ❥

Billy Loomis - Is irritated off rip. Billy plays it cool but he needs physical affection from you. He’s casual about it so he flies under the radar, but this is a stage five clinger. He’s always doing something small. Touching your fingers. A hand on your back. Neck. Sitting behind you instead of putting you directly in his lap. It’s little stuff. Hovering. Smack his hand away one of these times and his jaw clenches right away. “What the hell is your problem?” Please snuggle up to him and don’t start world war 3. It’s not worth the joke. 

Kevin Khatchadourian - Quick question, why do this to yourself? Kevin does not need, nor does he particularly enjoy, physical contact. Period. He is gracious enough to give you physical contact because he knows you’re built different (pathetic). For you to then turn around and spit in the face of him being kind enough to meet your needs? …. Quite crazy of you. The look he gives you is pure confusion because he’s honest to God baffled. What do you want to accomplish here? Go ahead and start begging now, because he’s not touching you for a long while. 

Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves - Swings wildly between damn near dodging any physical affection you attempt to give him to hanging off you like a squid on a ship. No in-between. For you to have the audacity to reject him when he’s feeling clingy? How dare you. He doesn’t have to beg anyone for attention! Did you forget who you’re dating? Doesn’t even care if you did it with obvious playfulness. He’s sensitive. He’s tender. He’s a bitch. He goes to get up and leave entirely and you have to grab him and beg him to cuddle so this doesn’t become a week long cold war. Happy ego stroking! 

Stu Macher - What you’re not about to do is ruin his mood. Baby, he’s about to ruin yours. How about that? If you push his hands off you once he enjoys a little playful bitchiness. Playing hard to get. He likes to chase, it’s cool. Twice? Okay…. We’re irritating him. Three times? He’s gonna grab your hand, stop smiling, and stare at you. When he places his hand back where it belongs, on your thigh, don’t act up again. He could make your whole week go to shit. Don’t start wars you won’t win. He’s the king of playing stupid games and winning stupid prizes. 

Nathan Prescott - Has to bluster and get visibly pissed off because he is rejection sensitive to a degree that is astounding, frankly. Let you see him upset after he tried to be affectionate and you said no? Hah! Not fucking likely. Being physically affectionate in the first place doesn’t come easy to him. Quality time is more his speed. Even worse if it wasn’t a sexual advance he was making. He tried to wrap an arm around you and you shrug him off? You’ll be lucky to get a hello out of him for the next week. Good luck soldier.

David Mccall - Outwardly, he pretends to be despondent and sheepish when you bat his hand away. He’s using sadness as a shield. If he’s sad then you might feel bad and give in. He’ll use any tool in his arsenal to get his way. One of his greatest skills is speaking in a soft voice, just shy of how you’d speak to a toddler, and telling you: “I didn’t mean to upset you, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” This is all to hide the fact that you rejecting him in any way, shape, or form makes him so angry he can barely think. You might be able to catch the rage hidden behind the veil. If you’re quick enough. David puts on a convincing show, but his gentle smile is twitching at the edges.

❥ who gets sad and mopey ❥

Jordan Li - Oh you pushed them away? No, that’s cool, it’s totally fine. You can want space. Everyone’s entitled to their own space bubble. Of course. Are you having a bad day? Are you mad at them? Did they do something wrong? Did they piss you off? These are the types of questions Jordan is going to “casually” ask for the next ten minutes while they sit really close to you. They’re not touching you! They always sit with their legs spread so wide. Their arm isn’t around you, it’s on the back of the couch. You’re nitpicking here, babe. They’re staring at you with their big brown eyes. No, they didn’t get any closer while you weren’t looking. 

Josh Washington - Why would you do this to him? Don’t push his hand off you unless you mean it or you’re being obviously playful about it. If you pretend to be mad at him while you do it, no matter how unconvincing of an actor you are, he will believe you. Sensitive king. He also won’t go to touch you again until you initiate the contact. Physical touch is reassuring and comforting to him but even he (category five clinger) gets touch aversion at times. As observant as he is, he knows some people are uncomfortable asserting their boundaries, so they’ll try to soften the blow of saying no by being “playful”. He cannot take the risk! You could mean it but don’t want to hurt his feelings. Josh interprets many playful no’s as real ones. Better safe than sorry.

❥ secret third worse thing ❥

Sebastian Valmont - Doesn’t take it for anything more than what it is. If you’re being playful he recognizes it. If you’re seriously not wanting to be touched at any given moment he understands that as well. However, in the case of being playful, you’ve started a war you can’t win. Because, as much as Sebastian enjoys chasing you…  Sebastian also likes to be chased. Ten minutes from now you’ll go to give Sebastian’s cheek a kiss and he’s going to dodge you. Hard. To such an extent it’s bordering on insult. He’ll be wearing a cat that got the canary grin all the while. 

Jason Dean/JD - Doesn’t take you seriously even if you are dead serious. I’m sorry, you’ve discovered his worst character trait by far. Most boundaries are a joke to him. He always wants to touch you. He loves you! He craves you like a drug. You should feel the same for him, in equal measure and desperation. So why wouldn’t you want him touching you? Holding you close. He’s so gentle with you (usually). His arms should feel like home. No matter how long a day you’ve had. No matter how overwhelmed you might be with sound, sight, touch. In JD’s eyes you’re one soul in two bodies. He always wants you near. He knows you want the same. You’re just a little dramatic sometimes.

[wsoc-gay]

World Cup Results II

Part 1

Ona Batlle x Reader

Summary: The beginning of Ona's Pregnancy

A/N: At least one more part to this of the pregnancy, might continue it after the baby too. But if anyone has a request please feel free to put it in my asks! I work much better and faster with ideas. I'm open to writing anything, smut, fluff, angst, kid fics, just let me know what you want to read!

You and Ona couldn’t be more excited on the drive home from the clinic. Neither of you could wipe the smiles off your faces as your hands were held together and rested in your girlfriend’s lap. The entire ride home was full of loving sentiments exchanged to one another and plenty of blushes being spread across faces. 

Arriving home began your new train in following the advice from the doctor as closely as possible as well as going a bit overboard. Your girlfriend was starting to get annoyed with you, but even she would admit it was sweet how caring you were. Ona never opened her car door, never lifted anything too heavy, didn’t carry her bags to training, and you hardly let her do household chores. Every night for dinner you cooked a meal full of all the proper nutrients the doctors had advised eating and made sure to buy Ona only the best prenatal vitamins.

You both had agreed to not tell your teammates until you reached the 15-week mark, until then Ona didn’t have to alter her trainings and could still play in games. You had let the coaching staff and medical staff know as soon as you found out so they could monitor the Spaniard closer, but as of now you wanted to keep it on a need-to-know basis.  

It was around the 8-week mark, right after the first ultrasound, that some of your teammates began to catch on that something was happening. Any slight bump or tackle Ona took during training led to you sprinting to be by her side checking up on her. The brunette found it sweet but needed you to let up a little bit before they had to tell your team sooner than expected. 

Your worries weren’t without their reason, the chance of miscarriage was drastically higher through IVF and until Ona was outside her first trimester you had every right to worry. The days leading up to your 8-week scan were some of the most stressful days in your recent memory. You and Ona both were worried sick about having the scan show that you had lost your baby.

Ona was more stressed than you were due to her late-night research of her symptoms which often times resulted in her reading many horror stories of parents going to the first ultrasound and finding no heartbeat. The internet on top of her raging hormones led to many tearful nights where you tried to alleviate her fears but knew that the only thing to help the brunette’s anxiety would be seeing your baby. 

Thankfully one day after training the two of you were able to go to the clinic for the scan and see your baby for the first time. Tears immediately came to both of your eyes as the doctor told you your baby was not only alive, but healthy and thriving inside your girlfriend. You weren’t one to cry, but Ona made a comment that she thinks you’ll be a mess at every ultrasound, and you couldn’t help, but agree. There was something about seeing your baby on that screen that made everything seem more real. Therefore, the attentiveness only got worse.

Your English teammates were the first to confront you about your recent behavior. The pair was sat alone at a table during lunch when Lucy pulled you into a seat, “What’s wrong with you?”

You gave the older woman a confused look, “What the hell do you mean?”

Kiera slapped Lucy’s arm and muttered something you couldn’t quite make out under her breath. She looked over to you, “What Lucy meant to say,” She sent the brunette defender a glare, “Is that you’ve been acting a bit different during training recently.”

You truly hadn’t caught onto what they were referring to yet and raised an eyebrow at the pair, “Is this your guy’s subtle way of telling me I’ve been playing badly?”

Lucy slapped the back of your head and groaned, “No you idiot,” You slapped her right back, “Every time someone so much as touches Ona you act like she got shot.” Lucy slapped you again, “And you’re always watching her like a hawk,” You slapped her back.

Kiera grabbed her arm before she could retaliate, “Would you two stop acting like children already.”

This wasn’t surprising behavior for you and the outside back, ever since you arrived at Barcelona the two of you grew much closer. Lucy helped you a lot to settle into the team and lifestyle of Spain, so overtime you grew a lot closer. Hence, why she was one of the first ones to notice a change in your behavior.

You suddenly realized what they were referring too and tried to hide it best you could, “I’m not acting any different, I always worry about her.”

Lucy gave you a dumbfounded look, “Yeah, but this is even pushing it for you,” She began to dramatically mimic you, “Oh my love, Ona, someone leaned on you during our full contact sport, and job, are you sure you’re going to survive this,” She leaned back with an arm laid against her forehead dramatically. 

You started slapping the older brunette again, “Oh shut up, I am not acting like that.”

Kiera sighed and pushed the two of you apart, “Would you two seriously stop it,” she looked at Lucy, “Luce stop being dramatic,” and then turned to face you, “You’re not acting like whatever the hell that display was, but you are acting extra protective over her.”

You ultimately made up some excuse about Ona having reinflamed her ankle and that you wanted to make sure she didn’t seriously injure it again. The pair of English women didn’t seem to believe your excuse, but let you go on your way.

On the ride home you had told you told Ona about the confrontation with Lucy and Kiera which she followed up by agreeing that you needed to tone down the protectiveness and worrying. She had begun to notice it too and believed it was sweet but agreed that it was about to get out of hand and was only a matter of time before more of your teammates began to catch on. 

---

It was a couple weeks later, around the 12-week mark, when Ona was quieter than usual after training. The car ride home was nearly silent, but you didn’t mention it and assumed she was just tired. As the pregnancy progressed Ona was starting to become increasingly more tired throughout the day, so you assumed that alongside the hard training today was the cause for her quietness. 

It wasn’t until a little later when you walked into the living room and found the Spaniard sitting on the couch with her head in her hands that you finally asked, “Is something wrong babe? Are you not feeling well?”

Her head remained in her hands as she softly muttered out, “I need to tell you something.”

You quickly sat down next to her with you hand on her thigh and concern lacing your voice, “Is it the baby? Do we need to call the doctor?”

She quickly sat back and leaned against the couch quickly alleviating your worries, “No, no the baby is fine. It’s just, es posible que accidentalmente le haya contado a Aitana sobre el bebé.” She had rushed out the last sentence in Spanish making it difficult for you to understand.

“Slower, por favor, you know my Spanish isn’t good when you talk fast.”

“I accidentally told Aitana about the baby today,” Feeling increasingly guilty she began to ramble, “I know we didn’t want to tell people about the baby this early, but she cornered me and you know I’m bad at keeping things to myself when someone asks and it just slipped out. I am so sorry mi amor.”

You chuckled at her rambling but let out a sigh of relief knowing this was the cause to Ona’s mood shift and not something more serious. Ona and Aitana had always been close, growing up playing for the academy together and since Ona returned to Barca they became even closer, so part of you was more surprised it took this long for her to find out. The outside back also was known for being bad at keeping secrets. Anytime someone would ask her about something she wasn’t supposed to talk about she would begin rambling making it obvious that she was hiding something and would usually end up saying it anyways.

You dropped back to lean against the couch and moved your hand from her knee onto her, hardly noticeable, bump, “Oh thank god, you had me worried, love.”

Ona covered your hand with hers, “There is nothing to worry about, I’m sorry she found out.”

The outside back when onto explain that Aitana had cornered her in the locker room after training when the rest of the team had already filed out. Instead of the usual comments which were about how protective you had become, Aitana had brought up how happy the two of you had seemed and that you were touchier than usual. She also had picked up on Ona subtly rubbing her stomach and your hand grazing over it after you would hug. She had straight up asked Ona if she was pregnant, and there was no escaping it from there, your girlfriend didn’t know how to lie.

“And you know I can’t lie, amor, she caught me so off guard and I must’ve taken too long to try and come up with an excuse, but she just pulled me into a hug saying how happy she was for us.”

You laughed again, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to pull the smaller girl into your side, “I’m more surprised you lasted this long without everyone finding out.”

Ona rubbed a hand over her stomach instinctively, “As long as everyone keeps bringing it up to you instead of me, we should be okay, there’s only three weeks until I can’t play in matches anymore and then we’ll have to tell them.”

You looked down to her face as you smoke softly, “We can tell the team now if you want, you’re out of the first trimester, we just saw the baby, and everything is healthy, there’s no big reason to keep it from them anymore.”

“No, no, I like just keeping it to ourselves. Our own little bubble outside of football for now,” she leaned up to connect your lips softly and full of love.

---

Aitana did much better of a job keeping the secret to herself than you originally expected. The midfielder took her job as being the best friend and only teammate who knew very seriously. Anytime your teammates would begin on the topic when she was around, she would quickly shush their comments and would back any lie you made up to cover your secret. 

You and Ona were grateful for her efforts, but in a way, it only increased your other teammates suspicions. You also were now partially convinced much of the team actually already knew what was going on. As the last two weeks have gone by Mapi, Ingrid, and Alexia had completely stopped asking anything about the topic. Originally Mapi had been one of the most vocal players about finding out what was going on, but now had completely stopped in her efforts. 

The truth was Ingrid, being the observant and caring teammate and friend that she was, had picked up on the same signals Aitana had. She obviously told Mapi about her suspicions who then confided in Alexia about them. Therefore, they came up with a plan to get the two of you to admit it to them. 

It was after the last game of the season before the Christmas break that Alexia decided the team would go to a club to celebrate before everyone left to their respective homes. You and Ona were going to see your family in England for the break, so you tried to get the two of you out of going by saying that you had to finish packing before your flight. Alexia wasn’t taking this as an answer and needed the both of you there to try and get an admittance from you, therefore, said it was required team bonding and you had to be there. The original plan was for Alexia and Mapi to call Ona out on not drinking and essentially for her to expose the pregnancy, but this plan was quickly stopped when the two of you entered the bar, keys in Ona’s hands, clearly having drove the two of you there. Anytime she was asked about a drink it was easy for her to say she was driving that night, plus she didn’t have to lie so there was no worries about her slipping up.

Alexia and Mapi were still trying to come up with a new plan when, surprisingly, you were the one to let it slip.

You were sitting at a table with many of your teammates while Ona was dancing with Aitana, Patri, Claudia, and Cata when a guy walked up behind Ona and placed his hands on her hips. You were on your feet and dragging the man off her before she had the chance to pull away.

The man turned around to be face to face with the hands that had just pulled him off the girl he was obviously interested in, “What the fuck do you want?”

You stood tall with your chest puffed and harshly spoke, “I want you to get your hands off my girlfriend.”

He scoffed, “Girlfriend? Sorry bud, I don’t think she’s the girlfriend type.”

You laughed, “Sorry, bud, but I’m the one she’s woken up next to for the past 8 years so I think I might know her a bit better than you.”

“Yeah, well I didn’t see you anywhere until after I came over so looks like I’ve beat you to it.”

“Oh, fuck no,” You tried to shove past him to get to Ona, but he moved to block your path.

“Why don’t you prove it to me then?” By now a decent amount of your teammates had noticed what was going on and began to come over to help deal with the man.

This sent you over the edge, it might’ve partially been at fault to the alcohol you had that night, and you being a little more than drunk already. But with one big push to his shoulder you announced, “I think the fact that she’s pregnant with my baby proves enough,” this left him shocked and gave you enough time to walk over to Ona with your back turned to the man and place a hand on the side of her face, “Are you alright, love?” Most of your teammates were now standing around you with their jaws hanging open clearly in shock.

The man clearly wasn’t over the embarrassment yet, as he pulled your shoulder back to face him and landed a hook across your cheek, you threw one right back getting him across the nose before security was dragging him away just as Lucy was doing the same to you. You looked back to find Ona and saw Alexia standing in front of her having clearly dragged her back and away from you and the man, likely assuming the altercation may escalate and after your confirmation didn’t want the Spaniard anywhere near the potential of a fight.

After clearing some things with the security guards, they let you stay and Lucy was dragging you over to the table many of your teammates had gone to sit at, the rest following close behind you. 

Ona slid into the booth next to you with a bag of ice in her hand, and reaching up with her free hand to grab your chin and turn your head to assess the damage, “Are you okay? You know I hate it when you do that.”

You were waving your arm dramatically, clearly still affected by the alcohol in your system, “He wanted to take you home I was protecting you both.”

She had a soft smile and pressed the bag of ice to your cheek, which you took over holding against your face, “I know you were, but you could’ve gotten hurt a lot worse.”

“I don’t care,” You leaned closer to whisper in her ear, clearly having forgotten you had already spilled your secret, “You’re carrying precious cargo, Baby Mami.”

Ona chuckled and patted your thigh, “No point in whispering now, amor, you already announced it.”

You turned to see the rest of your team giving you both dumbfounded and shocked looks, but Alexia, Aitana, Mapi, and Ingrid just smirking to themselves.

Alexia was the first to speak up from across the table, “So, you two are having a baby?”

You moved your free hand to rest on your girlfriend’s stomach and smiled as Ona replied, “Yep, baby y/l/n-Batlle is due in May. We were going to tell you all after the break, but tonight was my last match for the season, I’m about to be fifteen weeks, so no more matches.”

You were met with a lot of congratulations from your teammates when Lucy finally connected the dots and pointed at you, “So this is why you’ve been so unbearably protective over her recently.”

You defended yourself, “She’s carrying precious cargo, that’s the future best player in the world in there,” You patted her small bump, and the brunette covered your hand with hers.

This caused a smile to breakout on Ona’s face and laughs spread around the table. Ona had decided you had enough to drink, and she was exhausted having played 70 minutes today, so announced that you would be heading home. It took a few minutes before you were finally out the door, having to go through and hug every one of your teammates and being told congratulations by each one of them. 

The next day the two of you flew to England for the first half of break, you would spend Christmas with your family before coming back to Spain to spend the rest with Ona’s family who you saw more often. 

Since the secret was already out to your teammates and your families had already known for weeks while home in England you and Ona were able to tell a few of your England and former Arsenal teammates you were closest with. 

While in London and met up with Leah, Lia, Lotte, Alessia, Beth, and Viv for lunch to share the news with them. Leah was especially moved when you told her, having been much like a big sister to you during your time at Arsenal. She couldn’t get past how grown up you were and that now were having a baby. Alessia did a lot of claiming that this all happened because of her setting you two up. While you’ll go to your grave denying her you can’t help but thank her slightly.

---

Thanks for reading everyone, I hope you enjoyed! Again, please leave any requests or prompts in my asks!

[wh0reforfantasy]

Why is Jude Duarte the perfect morally grey character…

- Her parents were brutally slaughtered at a young age, and while hating Madoc, she also had a soft spot for her “father.” Since she was small, this man raised her and taught her everything she knew. Of course she had memories from her own parents, and could never forgive Madoc for what he did, but she also saw the fatherly side of him and appreciated it. Jude Duarte was created in a morally grey environment.

- Jude Duarte will do anything for her power/pride, even if it means risking everything and everyone she has. She could have easily brushed off petty insults and kept temper during her brutal bullying/harassment she was going through, like Taryn and the rest of her family insisted, but Jude never let it slide. Even if it was simple revenge that might earn her a dip into a creek, Jude always stood her ground. Later into the series, we see her completely and utterly invested with the little power she gains and how she uses it. There are considerable more risks with every power move she makes, especially everything concerned with the crown. Her family is usually an afterthought, and rarely an emotional case. Even with Oak, Jude is more concerned about the use of power and where she stands, then she is for his safe-being. Not to mention the time Jude almost killed Taryn in a squabble over Locke, which in its entirely mocked Jude and what control she had over someone close to Cardan. Jude loves her family, and will protect them, but not unless it suits her in some way.

- Everyone/anyone is her enemy… no matter how much she “trusts’ them. We see it with her relationship with Taryn, where Jude cares for her sister, but never really trusts her. Even with Cardan, while Jude was infatuated with him, she never once trusted him. All of her friends and family becomes pawns in her power game, and she will always back up herself first. This was taught to her by Madoc, who put battle/power first above his own important people and morals. Cardan was a known enemy to Jude, but he showed her a vulnerability/empathy that she showed no one else. Instead of being emotional and falling for him harder, Jude convinced herself it was an act and to use it to her advantage. Most people wouldn’t shackle a boy that was being beat by his own brother, trick him into having a crown he did NOT want to have, AND witnessed his whole family being slaughter in front of him… Jude didn’t care, she wanted the crown and her revenge.

Nonetheless, Jude has a side of her that is very protective and loves harder than the average person. Her strength and determination could be used for something more than her own gain, and she shows she is capable of that later into the series. We understand why Jude acts the way she does because we witness the pain of her character first hand. Who wouldn’t want revenge against the very people that hate her for her existence? Being human means your weak, can be controlled… a creature owned by the fae. Love was wired to be thought of as a weakness, something to make you lose the battle. In this series, we see her struggle with the choices of to love, or gain more power.

I think Holly Black made an AMAZING female lead that wasn’t written for love, but for feminine rage and power. Love didn’t stop her from gaining what she needed, what her goals were, and instead make her stronger. Jude fought most of her battles alone and failed, but got up regardless. Cardan wasn’t her knight in shining armor, it was quite the opposite. And let’s just say, the best series I’ve read so far.

[delirious-donna]

Chapter 2: The First Bite

pairing: vamp!Kakashi Hatake x female reader

“I’ll say this only once… tell me to stop and I will honour your request. I will leave and never return; you will think of me as a passing fantasy and no more. But…” He paused for a beat. “If I have you now, then I will return again and again.”

The house was perfect. Love at first sight. A long abandoned stately home would be the perfect place to plant your roots and focus on your writing. There's only one problem... someone already lives there, and he can't wait to meet you.

wc: 4.5k

tw: vampire AU, smut throughout, strangers to lovers, blood drinking, pervert Kakashi, dream sexy times, glove kink, male fully clothed, female close to naked, pussy eating, Kakashi hides his face cause he's a dummy, orgasm control, implied punishment, slight Dom vibes, clit pinching, nipple play, biting, reader described as curvy

Part One | Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Part Three

You awoke feeling more tired than when you went to bed the previous night.

Your body felt heavy and sluggish as you sat up from the warm cocoon of blankets twisted around you. The constant ringing of the alarm clock was shrill, setting your teeth on edge and sending a wave of irritation rippling through you.

It was unlike you to feel this grumpy come morning, yet you were unable to shake the uncharacteristic foul mood that had set in.

Flash-like memories of your dream kept popping into your head at the most inopportune moments. Errant visions of black gloves accosted you whilst arranging the wealth of books you called your personal library, distracting you enough to miss the edge of the shelf and resulting in a book landing on your foot with a thud. You cursed for being barefoot, hopping for a second and watching as a mark appeared from the corner of the spine that briefly imbedded into the top of your foot.

Continuing to grumble, you bent at the waist and grabbed up the offending book to examine it… ‘The Vampire Lestat’.

Smiling fondly, you pushed it into place with a resigned shake of your head. Would you ever be truly over your obsession with vampire fiction? Probably not. There would likely always be a part of you that held a candle for the many male vampire characters in the books you had favoured growing up and into early adulthood.

You would always be a sucker—pun intended—for those dark, brooding men and their beloved soulmates that always managed to reveal the good lurking in the recesses of their withered hearts.

Quite suddenly, the thought of one day writing your own novel with a vampire lead popped into your head. The question was… would your publisher go for it?

A thought for another time.

A time when you could better plot out a story and weigh up your odds in succeeding in a genre that you held close to your heart.

~

Kakashi spent the day engaged in a futile attempt to sleep.

The rage of being interrupted by that damn ringing alarm clock had come with the threat of ripping apart his concealed room, which, of course, might have revealed his presence to you. He might have been torn apart with burning annoyance when your mind had shoved him out, but he had no desire to put himself in a position of discovery—not yet.

He was not aided by your appalling choice in music.

The entire house was filled with the loud thumping bass that bothered his sensitive ears and soured his mood all the more. Not for the first time he punched at his pillow and watched feathers escape to flutter towards the floor. He had to calm down, that much he knew.

He wanted another chance to infiltrate your dreams and if you were to be put on alert by too many unidentified noises, it would be more difficult. There was also his bone deep concern over what actions he might take if he were to go to you in his current mood.

It wasn’t a risk worth taking.

Whilst there was undeniable thrill in instilling a hint of fear, that was a game to be played once you trusted him, once you knew you were safe in his capable hands. Kakashi had to develop that bond a little more before he played his hand. If he ever did… the mean little voice in his head whispered.

As the music penetrated every room of the grand house, he let out a sigh of relief when it changed to something softer, more melodic. A female voice sang of rainstorms and soft kisses, it was enough to finally allow the poor vampire the respite of sleep. The darkness approached, and he accepted it with open arms.

It was close to midnight when he awoke once more. His mind instantly sent out feelers for your presence, humming in contentment when he sensed you in the bathroom. Once he was certain you were decent, he was a gentleman after all, he sent a projection of himself to observe you silently.

He watched from his shadowy hiding place whilst you brushed your teeth and scowled at your reflection in the mirror for some unknowable reason. Without wasting time, he sent a pulse of power to the dratted alarm clock in the adjoining room, disabling the wretched thing with a smirk of satisfaction when it gave a low whine of failure.

The stage was set and now all he had to do was wait for you to climb into bed.

Kakashi’s fingers tightened into the sheets below him, fighting the natural, or unnatural, urge to go to you physically. In his head he knew that it was not yet time for that, it would be far too much to expect you to welcome him with open arms and an equally open mind to his rather unusual condition.

Instead, he watched as you exited the bathroom, an audible groan of appreciation rumbling out of his throat at the sight of you. Gone was the unflattering baggy t-shirt from the previous night, replaced by a black satin nightdress.

His mouth watered for a taste, gaze falling to the mid-thigh hem and the lace that edged the delicate garment. Your breasts moved naturally as you strode towards the bed dominating the room, plush thighs rubbing against one another and my god, he didn’t think you could look any more appetising. He couldn’t help but think that you had listened to his requests and that had him smiling to himself, excited for what was to come.

~

The heaviness of sleep pressed upon you quickly, far faster than last night and maybe that was your unspoken desire to see if you could recreate the scene from your dreams.

Your final thoughts, as you settled into the soft comfort of your bed, were that it seemed ridiculous to dress so alluringly at the hope for a chance at one more steamy dream with the mysterious stranger from the previous night…

Once again, you stood frozen in place. Your surroundings nothing but a black abyss that strangely didn’t feel unnerving in the way you thought it might. Casting your gaze downward, your body appeared dressed in the same nightdress you had gone to bed wearing. Your skin displayed in far too a revealing manner to be appropriate, and every inch tingled with awareness—waiting.

Just when you thought your impatience would get the better of you, a sudden presence made the hair on the nape of your neck stand on end. A shudder that spoke far more of pleasure than fear rippled down your spine.

A strong arm wrapped around your front, gloved fingers holding your upper arm firmly but not indelicately, until your back met the very solid front of the body behind you.

Your breathing hitched into your throat.

Your heart beating faster and faster.

The tickle of black fabric being drawn around your shoulders—a cape—aroused you further, a head of silver hair dropping to your shoulder, a rough voice by your ear.

“You listened. I can’t express how pleased that makes me,” he enthused with a noise you could only describe as a growl.

Only a barely heard whisper escaped. “W-who exactly are you?”

The graze of sharp teeth against the shell of your ear froze the breath in your throat. A heat so decadent you flushed from the embarrassment of it, pooled between the apex of your thighs. It was your same stranger, the very same man from the previous night and it seemed totally irrational that you should desire hearing his praise—his admiration.

A deep chuckle was the only response. His hands roamed freely over your body, unseen given the cover of the cape and that only made it hotter. Exploratory fingers inched towards the hem of your nightgown, rich cotton grazed your skin and left you with the involuntary thought of what his naked touch would be like. Would it be smooth or calloused, rough or gentle? So many variables, and each answer completely unknown.

“Won’t you answer me?”

In the next second, a blinding light fizzled and forced your eyelids closed, and that was the moment your back met a soft surface, gone was the sturdy body. Blinking, you realised you were in your bed, but the sheets were bunched and twisted like someone hid beneath them, by your legs.

With your heart thundering in your ears, you tried to throw the covers back only to discover your hands were held immobile above your head. There was no restraint, yet every attempt at lowering them failed, resulting with an amused chuckle from the lump beneath the sheets.

Warm breath fanned your skin, lips cooler than you thought possible peppered your thighs with soft wet kisses and left you feeling exposed in a deliciously forbidden way you had never felt before.

Your dream man came to rest between your thighs, prying them gently apart whenever you tried to keep them shut. There was no force, only the subtlest coaxing required to have you comply, and that charged your skin with a heat that washed from your head right down to your toes. His nose pressed against the delicate flesh of your inner thigh, inhaling in a way that you could only describe as scenting. The result was a deep rumble that vibrated through his chest and created a decedent moisture only a few inches from his face.

Those gloved hands moved the satin hem of your nightdress higher, teasingly slow and deliberate until you knew the cotton of your underwear was entirely exposed. Your ragged panting rang through the air, neck straining as you tried to lift your head and look down the line of your body although there was nothing to see but the bedsheets.

A heated whisper stalled the breath in your throat, all movement paused as if the moment was suspended into a bubble impenetrable by time and space.

“I’ll say this only once… tell me to stop and I will honour your request. I will leave and never return; you will think of me as a passing fantasy and no more. But…” He paused for a beat. “If I have you now, then I will return again and again.”

The words sent a storm of sensations and emotions through your mind and body, fear of the unknown mingled in a strange dance with unadulterated lust. It left you squirming against the invisible bonds and your mind reeling over the implications of what was heavily implied by his words.

Would you give yourself to this man? Not just right now, but at any time he saw fit. Did he even exist or was this some elaborate plot concocted by the depths of your subconscious? What sane person would agree to such terms? But if it was only in your dreams… where was the harm?

You couldn’t deny the desire to uncover what would happen if you agreed to his proposal any longer. Taking the bull by the horns—metaphorically, of course—you yelled your agreement whilst your toes curled into the mattress with anticipation.

He smiled against your skin, the sharp points of his teeth grazing carefully over the area where the vein located in your inner thigh resided. The cool sensation of his lips pressing wet kisses had you shudder, excitement running the length of your spine whilst heat pooled at your core, soaking the cotton. Your fantasy lover moved with the grace of a predator, stalking its prey until the ridge of his nose rubbed against the damp seat of your underwear.

A shiver coursed his spine as he nuzzled your arousal-soaked panties, fingers curling into the waistband and peeling them down your legs until they seemed to melt into nonexistence. He ran his thumb across your mound and lower to part your folds. It was followed almost immediately by the brush of his tongue.

Your spine arched, the invisible bindings tightening around your wrists but not painfully so, simply a reminder that you were captured and at the mercy of your mysterious lover. In truth, you weren’t seeking freedom to run from the sensations racking your body, but instead, you longed to card your fingers through his hair. You wanted to tug him closer when his tongue swirled around and around your clit, teasing you mercilessly…

With time, what had started as tentative became demanding.

A deep knot of pleasure grew steadily in the pit of your stomach, twisting tighter with the vigour with which he kissed, licked and sucked at your pussy. The deep guttural groans that resounded loudly from his throat simply added to the experience, the vibrations ripping mewls of delight from your mouth until you were panting hard.

Time seemed to suspend, frozen in a moment that you had no desire to ever escape from. Just as you were becoming accustomed to the way he made out with your pussy; he changed things up. Two gloved fingers slid over your skin, collecting the saliva and arousal until they were slippery and notched at your entrance. They thrust roughly past the first few inches of resistance, stretching your hole to accommodation and you flushed furiously at how willingly your body yielded to the intrusion.

The methodical curling motion had him pressing up against your swollen, gummy pleasure spot in rapid succession—over and over without faltering—until you were panting out heavy breaths that told far more than you wanted.

As if he could read your thoughts, a commanding growl cut through the air. “Don’t cum. Do you hear me?”

When you didn’t immediately answer, you felt a pinching sensation as your clit was assaulted wordlessly. You squeaked and wriggled until a palm weighed flush atop your abdomen. What came next startled you far more than anything up to this point… your name flowed past their lips with a sound like velvet brushing hardwood.

“… answer me.”

“How? Oh, fuck! I won’t… ah—it’s hard! Wanna so bad.” Your alarmed confusion meddled with the exertion of keeping your orgasm at bay, the pit of pleasure twisting your insides into knots.

A pleased hum brushed your core, the lick of his tongue painting the inside of your thigh followed by a sharp nip and another more forceful lick to drive away the sting.

“Atta girl.”

It was all you could do to hold onto your sanity. With the continued precise movements rubbing and prodding at your g-spot, your vision winked with vivid stars. The desire to squeeze your thighs closed was almost overwhelming, even though you knew full well it would never be allowed. You were being plied with the most deliciously erotic experience in your life and for some unfathomable reason, you wanted to please him.

You wanted to please this perfect stranger. A stranger who you had only caught the briefest glimpses of. Why were you so intrigued by them? It felt like a magnetic draw, a thread of something you couldn’t name weaving around you to bind yourself to him, and where there should have been fear… it was absent.

It was obvious to you both that you would not last much longer. You were straying perilously past your limit, and with the first display of mercy, he ended your torment. Soft as petal lips suckled your throbbing clit, drawing the bud into his mouth and caressing it with firm care until you finally fell apart.

A void so black you didn’t know which way was up or down greeted you. All you could hear were your own anguished cries of bliss, the pleasure spreading out like shockwaves through a body of water. They rippled from your centre to the tips of your fingers and toes, bringing with them the sheer magnitude of an orgasm unlike any you had experienced before.

Slowly, your senses returned and tripped you into the warm embrace of being licked so thoroughly that you were certain he hadn’t missed a single drop of your arousal. Your skin tingled from the start of overstimulation, hips wriggling for a fraction of reprieve that didn’t come.

Your highly sensitive skin continued to be tortured; his tongue, teeth and slick-soaked fingers working in tandem to pull a pathetic wail from your throat. Only then did he hum in satisfaction, the strokes softening and slowing until they were merely pets of contentment.

The covers rustled, once forgotten now they were the sole focus of your attention. Your eyes shot wide, glancing down the line of your heaving body to spy a head of messy silver hair. Afraid if you blinked you would miss it, you willed your eyes to stay open as the man between your thighs lifted his head. Intense charcoal eyes burrowed into you, holding your gaze until the slightest crinkle formed at the outside corners. A thin black mask hid the lower half of his face, the fabric darker around the contours of his mouth from the juices you had leaked, and he had hungrily lapped up.

He was the most handsome man you had ever seen, and you couldn’t even see all of him.

The outline of a strong jaw caught your attention, your gaze flicking over his features with an appreciation you didn’t think possible. Those dark eyes hooded over, the sleek silver of his eyebrow rising like he knew exactly what you were thinking—and not for the first time. You watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

“To answer your earlier question, I am Kakashi Hatake. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he purred the last sentiment whilst his heated gaze roamed your face and down the side of your neck to stop just short of ogling your décolletage.

The man named Kakashi moved too quickly for you to follow. His masked face was now mere inches from yours, the smell of him mingled with the tantalising aroma of your own arousal. It coaxed you to inhale more deeply, the warm fragrance of summer sunsets and cherry blossoms in bloom sparked in your mind.

He rubbed his nose along yours before moving towards your neck and collarbone. Speaking directly into your skin, the fine hairs raised into a march of goosebumps. “I’m afraid you’ve been rather naughty, my dear. I do hope you’ll take your punishment like a good girl, you will, won’t you?”

A tendril of fear unfurled in your stomach; eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He spoke so softly, yet the words were heated and held promise of retribution. Your wrists rubbed together as your fight or flight response kicked into gear, resulting in a dark rumble of laughter that further twisted your stomach into knots.

“What do you mean?”

Kakashi slipped a finger beneath the thin strap of your nightgown, toying with it whilst he met your puzzled stare with mischief burning in those expressive grey eyes.

“Well… I think I made it perfectly clear that you were to hold your orgasm, and what did you do?” He crooned at you, voice teasingly sweet.

“I-I couldn’t! You were deliberately—aah!” The rest of your rebuttal died with your yelp of surprise. One smooth movement and your dream partner had snapped the strap he had been playing with and moved to repeat the process on the other one.

“Tsk tsk. Are you really arguing with me when I just spent the better half of my night drinking down your arousal?”

Your chin angled in a way that had you been in your right mind, you knew it would appear petulant. Kakashi wasn’t going to overlook it, and you would find that out. He grasped at your chin, bringing your gaze back to him, canting his head with a subtle disbelieving shake. If you didn’t hear the quiet huff of laughter, you might have thought he was truly mad.

“Mind your manners, sweetheart. I’m not always this lenient,” he intoned calmly.

You sighed— breathless, compliant—so unlike the norm. What harm would it do to further submit to him? You wanted to. You wouldn’t admit it, even to yourself, but you wanted to see what might happen next.

Mesmerised, you watched as those gloved fingers curled into the low neckline of your nightwear, pulling it down until it covered barely your midriff. Your skin tingled; nipples tightening into stiff peaks from his hungry gaze alone. His forefinger circled around your areola, hummed appreciation twisting your stomach into knots so complex that even the most adept sailor would struggle to untie them.

“Beautiful. So sensitive. Do you like to have them sucked? Oh…” Kakashi groaned when you whimpered in reply, your spine arching from the sheets in anticipation.

“Do you always speak such filth?”

Instead of answering, he dipped his head and lowered his mask, suckling a tender bud into his mouth. His lips were cool but his tongue molten hot. The contrast was a delicious surprise that stole the air from your lungs, and only stoked your desires to be able to thread your fingers through his hair.

Would you push him away or tug him closer? Was that even a question you needed to ask yourself? No. You knew that given the choice you would card through the silver forest of his hair until you were forcing him closer and closer.

With a deliberate wet pop, he released your taut nipple, nosing at the swollen skin and turning his face up to you slowly after pulling the mask back into place. The oxygen froze in your chest, your throat constricted and blood pumping noisily through your veins.

You were met with red eyes.

Blood red.

Crimson.

Carmine.

Vermillion.

Scarlet.

Every possible shade of red flitted through his irises, the swollen black pupils blown but not enough to disguise the stark colour staring intently at you.

“W-who are you?”

Again, he refused to answer. Truthfully, there wasn’t an answer in the universe that would turn your world the right way up. Aroused and puzzled. Excited and terrified. It was exhausting, even if you were meant to be at rest.

Kakashi returned his attention to your breasts, palms cupping them gently so that he could lavish his attention on every possible part. He nipped, sucked, kissed and blew variations of hot and cold air onto your burning hot flesh.

This was supposed to be a punishment, and yet the only thing you could find remotely punishing was his continued refusal to answer you. Instead, he cooed at you, lulling you into a sense of safety that should have raised your internal alarm.

Another orgasm stormed near.

Your hips undulated beneath him, working your pelvis against his body. Kakashi tensed; his entire body growing as rigid as the hard length you could feel cradled against your lower abdomen. He let out a hiss through his teeth, eyes screwing shut when you didn’t pause in your teasing of his erection. He was certain you would mewl and beg to be fucked if he kept going, but not now.

Not this time.

His hunger was palpable. You could feel it vibrating though his bones, not that you understood, but you would. Kakashi was a monster, he didn’t deserve the fruits of your body, but he couldn’t stop himself. He needed to taste you, even if this wasn’t *actually* real. That was a minor detail still to be corrected.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered so quietly you missed the sentiment entirely.

Your eyebrows knit together, sensing something was amiss. Before you could ask, he pounced.

A searing pain flashed through you. Heat and the sensation of your skin being ripped open by a surgeon’s scalpel dissipated almost immediately. It was replaced with an unrivalled euphoria. Kakashi’s commanding voice spoke inside your mind, he guided you through the pleasure as it took over your body and your breathing became erratic.

“Look,” he demanded, “see for yourself the beast I am.”

As if on puppet strings, you obeyed. Your eyes flew open to watch as a heavy trickle of thick, dark blood escaped the seam of his lips, curving over the swell of your breast and disappearing to the sheets below.

There was a revelation on the edge of your periphery but no matter how hard you tried to grasp it, you couldn’t. It was as if your fingers passed straight through it. Either that or your brain refused to accept it.

Your breathing turned shallow, bliss overshadowing everything else until your mind slipped away entirely. The sight was erotic, whether you accepted it or not.

Kakashi locked his gaze with yours, and it felt like watching a war in those vermillion eyes as they drained back to their original steel grey. It made you want to reach out your hand in the hopes of understanding him better. Why were you projecting such complex emotions onto a fantasy lover? It made no sense.

There was no time to process anything further; your vision blacking out like an old-fashioned television being turned off, the picture receding until it was merely a single dot before winking out.

You had passed out.

~

In the cramped recesses of his hidden room, Kakashi opened his eyes with a start. He fumbled with the buttons of his trousers, teeth tearing away his gloves so he could feel skin on skin and pretend it was you.

His cock strained and pulsed into his fist, fingers ringing the base and stroking the length with languid movements. Precum had leaked down his shaft during his encounter with you, and it took only three or four passes of his hand to release the pressure in his heavy balls.

It was a painful orgasm, drawn out and messy. Cum stained his fingers, thighs, even splashing far enough to stain his black waistcoat. Powerful shudders of pain and relief coursed his spine, and his gums tingled with the want to bite.

He found his pillow and brought it to his mouth, savaging the fabric until feathers spun in the air in a frantic dance. It wasn’t enough, but it would have to do. There was no taste from the blood he had enacted taking from you, no flavour profile to be studied like one might do if sampling wine.

God, you were in trouble. So much trouble and you didn’t understand. There wouldn’t be any stopping him if he took what he desired, and he warred with himself.

Monster.

The title repeated like a mantra until he had to lie down and close his eyes. You wouldn’t want him if you knew, if you truly knew.

A vampire… could be loved, of that he was certain, but he was a broken vampire. No one could love him and until now he had accepted that fate. The wish inside his withered heart whispered its poisonous desire until he was sick from it.

Now… he wanted you to prove him wrong.

[inbarfink]

Flowey is meant, I think, to be a sort of a representation of the Player. He has just slightly less Determination than we do and he was filling up that exact same role before Frisk fell into the Underground. He was the one with the power of RESETs and SAVEs before we came along, so he was basically playing his own ‘prequel’ to Undertale over and over

First aiming at getting a 'good ending' -

But since he was unable to see anyone else in the Underground as a real person (what seems to be some sort of combination of the lack of a SOUL, being unable to process his Massive Amount of Trauma and the repeated time-loops allowing him to notice the repetitiveness and limitations of everyone’s reactions) he started moving into choosing crueler and cruller options.

Despite his affinity toward sadistic gloating, it is important to note that Flowey’s main motivation is actually boredom. Although he will only open up about it to Chara, the real reason why he’s out to harness the power of the Human SOULs and destroy everyone - essentially his equivalent to a Murder Route - is because destroying the world is the one last thing he hasn't done yet. The one option he hadn't seen yet.

Which mirrors the mindset of many who start on the Murder Route, as Sans himself points out.

Important to note here is that despite Flowey talking about how he ‘killed everyone’, he never actually completed his ‘Murder Runs’. Like both in the sense that he never got to destroy the Entire Universe like the Player does at the end of a Murder Route and Flowey tries to in the Neutral Ending, and in the sense that the reason why he couldn’t is because he never got his vines on the Human SOULs before the events of the game. So there must’ve always been someone that stopped him before he got there. The implication is that it was usually either Asgore -

Or Sans, as usual playing the role of a Murder Route final boss -

The fact he could never beat them might have something to do with his plant body being weaker than the Player’s Human body or whatever - but I think it is probably mainly a matter of Determination. Again, he is slightly less Determined than the Player is - so he would logically be slightly more prone to quitting. Flowey is basically equivalent to a Player who has done everything in Undertale but never actually completed the Murder Route cause he rage-quitted at the Sans Battle.

His relationship to Papyrus can also be a mirror to the Player’s. Since Papyrus is the one character who is always willing to befriend the Player no matter the circumstance. In the more dusty Neutral Runs he is characterized as being in the dark (or in denial) about how terrible his ‘friend’ actually is…

And that is basically also the relationship he has with Flowey in the current timeline. Papyrus is the only one who thinks of Flowey as a friend (and, well, the only one to know he EXISTS in this timeline), but he is totally in the dark (or perhaps willfully ignorant) to this ‘friend’ and his true nature.

Meanwhile, Flowey's behavior once he regains his Asriel form in the Pacifist Route mirrors the behavior of a Player who is replaying the Pacifist Route. He became so attached to the Player that he refuses to let the ‘game’ end.

Instead resorting to a plan to reset time and the Player’s memories over and over again, with the Player doing the exact same things again and again -

Just so Flowey won’t have to say goodbye.

That is basically the mindset behind replaying the Pacifist Route after already achieving everyone’s Happy Ending. Within the fiction of the game, you’re ripping them all away from their happy ending, resetting all of their progress - just because you have a hard time moving on from the game, just because you want another chance to play with them.

And the Route ends with the suggestion of a possibility that Flowey might be able to redeem himself and start caring about others again.

Just as a Player might be able to prove a genuine care to the characters on an in-universe level by being able to resist the temptations of the True Reset.

But they also might not…

Flowey is a third-person-POV demonstration to the Player of how a Player-like entity would be like in a video game world. An immortal time god who knows everything about everyone even while no one really knows them. Someone who has experienced every single reaction anyone could have to anything until they have become unable to see others as anything but predictable lines of code. Someone who prioritizes their own sentimentalities for others over these others’ actual desires. Someone who will destroy the entire world just because it’s something they haven’t done yet.

And I think Asriel, as part of this metaphor, is a demonstration of how this concept of the Player as an Amoral Time God within the fiction of the game does not necessarily translate into a condemnation of the actual real-world morals of the actual person playing the game.

Because Asriel and Flowey are the same person. The difference is that Flowey had Consequences-Free Time God Powers and an (supposed?) inability to care about others in the Underground as real people. In other words, Asriel is the self that interacts with the world as the real world - and Flowey is the self that interacts with the world as a Player in a Game. So while Flowey might be a mirror of the Player, Asriel might be closer to who we are in the real world.

And also…

I wonder if the scene where you have a chance to forgive or not forgive Asriel for what he has done as Flowey is also meant as a chance for the Player to self-reflect and forgive or not forgive themselves for the things they did before that True Pacifist Run. You know, whatever characters you might have accidentally or not-so-accidently killed in previous runs, whatever decisions you regret, whatever previous True Resets you might have done… If you believe Asriel can be forgiven (and most players do) for his actions - because he feels genuine remorse and he’s trying to do better now, then the Player can also forgive themself.

Well, outside of one little thing… There is one bad deed the game won’t ‘forgive’ you for. And it is the one thing that the Player can do and Flowey never could…

Finish a Murder Route.

[pucktoxicity]

i had a whole message ready to go and dropped my phone, so this might end up being shorter. first, as context, i went to a massive hockey school and was with my boyfriend who was on the team throughout our time there and after. still talk with him, but i’ll be honest and say that all the sh*t that comes with having a relationship with someone that’s high profile was just too much.

1. the reading stuff is hilarious. obviously they can read—they just don’t HAVE to read. even in college. was at a party at one of his teammate’s places and opened the fridge to grab something and there were textbooks, still in the plastic, sitting on the top shelf. it was a class i was also taking. when I confronted the guy about it as I held said textbooks in hand laughing (it was near midterms) he said “it doesn’t matter. i’ll pass.” he passed and it definitely wasn’t because he understood a damn thing in that course.

2. cliques exist on teams. ill break that down further. my boyfriend hung with like five of his teammates and a handful of athletes from another big sport at my school. those were who we were around on any given day. on weekends after games, or if there was a stretch with a break from some games, the entire team would go out. your ass better be at those team events or if not you better have a good reason why you’re not there. there was an issue off the ice involving the team and there was definitely a rift afterwards because a few of the guys were not there. it made for a really bad season with a team that should have done well.

3. they’re not tagging pics in real-time. they’ll post stuff a few days later with the tags on the locations so people think they know where they are if they post anything at all. that’s equally true for public and private accounts where tracking can be controlled. im sure most people recognize this, but i’ve never seen it stated outright. i was even asked to hold off on posting things until we were somewhere else even though my accounts are private. if they want you to know where they are, you’ll know where they are.

4. for the love of god do not send them nudes. not unless you want that entire team and possibly more to have them. getting nudes was a game to them.

5. which brings me to—they are ALWAYS involved in some sort of game or challenge with one another. the nudes was one, i can’t give anything more specific because i’d likely dox myself. not really feeling up for that blowback. just—they’re always betting each other over something and keeping tabs/score with something likely unrelated to hockey. sometimes it’s funny and sometimes “ew.” but there’s always something.

6. the sh*t they do off ice is hilarious and often unexpected. one of my best friends is the biggest a-hole on the ice, led the team in penalties, etc. off ice he’s the nicest human you will ever meet. he doesn’t read for fun, but he’s a nerd over a specific genre of movies that you wouldn’t expect. video games are pretty constant. they’re psychotically competitive even with those. watching giant man children rage quit video games is hilarious. oh and some of them have the weirdest habits. can’t really elaborate on that one. if anything i’d send it another time.

7. as someone that had a whole school watching my every move and then a whole city watching my every move, i can tell you it gets old fast—for everyone involved. i had people (guys and girls) show up where i lived. 95% of the sh*t i read online that was supposedly about me, him, me and him, etc was not even close to true. take what you see about any of the players or the people involved with them with a grain of salt.

8. sadly some of the worst guys are the ones in the longest relationships, or had families, etc. that was really horrifying to me. strictly anecdotal to my experience with two teams and their circles, but yeah. it was bad.

9. because the question comes up a lot—where? i met my boyfriend at mandatory study hall freshman year because im also an athlete. we never talk hockey. i talk hockey with my other friends and family, never with him or his teammates. he’s in it all day everyday, it’s his job, just like when im done with work i know i don’t want to talk about it, they’re the same way. if he brings it up, sure, but i’m sure as hell not gonna be the one to do that.

and for those keeping score: tall and natural blonde. many of his teammates over the years dated brunettes but they almost always ended up dying their hair blonde. so I don’t know if it’s blondes initially all the time. if anything i would just add that WAGs are their own beast with all the peer pressure and competitiveness of a team. the going blonde thing might be due to the pressures within that group.

way longer message than i intended but hopefully some valuable insight for those who have asked. as you’ve said, they’re humans like anyone else, their job is just different. oh, and summers were mostly working with skills coaches and rehabbing injuries/getting surgeries that are overdue that weren’t publicized. the public doesn’t know half the sh*t these guys are playing through.

everyone thank this anon for her service because this is absolutely perfect, no notes.

the ones i can most agree with / corroborate from my own experiences: she is 100% correct. do not send these guys nudes (i never have & never will, but know that they get them spread around quickly!!), and the same goes for competing over things. good lord, it’ll be the stupidest shit sometimes too but somehow it becomes a competition 😭 it’s crazy! and the same goes for schoolwork. it’s not just hockey. i have a friend who went to an SEC school with a historic football team (and sorority rush, cough cough), and she said the same thing about football players. they’ll pass. no matter what. doesn’t mean they’ll have a 4.0, but they’ll pass enough. i’m sure it’s the same with big hockey schools up here and the midwest as it is in the south with football. that doesn’t surprise me at all, unfortunately.

also, that last line. the public doesn’t know half the shit these guys are playing through. YUP. the things their bodies go through in not just a season, but in one game, are absolutely insane. and she’s very correct about privately-handled, unannounced offseason surgeries. 🙂‍↕️

i think the most interesting thing for you guys to see is her insight that most brunette WAGs end up going blonde & that whole explanation of the blonde WAG stereotype in every level of hockey.

whoever you are, i adore you, this was an amazing read, and if you ever want to talk privately in dms and stuff, i’d love to! if not, no worries, and thank you for stopping by & talking to me 🥰💋❤️

[todorokis-girl]

That's really not what I meant - Kuroo (pt 2)

part 1

Part 3

masterlist

Taglist:

@kathsuhki @v-e-r-t21 @staygoldsquatchling02

The next couple of days were heavy on me, almost, tense; Kuroo spent a lot of time at my house spending time with Kenma and in class he was always to my right; and my club activities were, well… the volleyball team. Yes, I was training the new first-year manager to take over, but out of nostalgia and tradition I was the one to primarily take care of the third years. That group included my brother and the cutest man alive (and the current bane of my existence), and others—like Yaku. 

I have continued to try my hardest to keep as far away from Kuroo as possible without neglecting my manager duties or even affect the relationship between him and Kenma. I would be devasted if for any reason I was to blame for their relationship being affected for any reason (which just adds a thick layer of tension and fear on how exactly to handle this). 

I handed everyone their water bottles for the break, as I usually did; everyone receiving a comment on something they might need before continuing to the second half of practice. I handed my brother a protein bar and glared at him “Stop skipping lunch to game Kenma, if you pass out, I’m dragging you home by your hair” He stared at me with his usual deadpanned expression and grabbed the protein bar and water bottle. 

"Kuroo," I started, my voice unusually cold, and his eyes furrowed in confusion as I handed him the water bottle “You need to replace your sports tape, ask Tenya to replace it for you” 

“You never call me Kuroo, everyone else calls me Kuroo, my friends call me Tetsuro, you call me Tetsu; why are you calling me Kuroo?” he asked, puzzled.

“No reason,” I replied tersely.

“Y/N, what’s going on?” he pressed, his brows knitting together.

“I really don’t want to do this now”

“Why are you being so cold?!” he asked forcefully, but with a hint of confusion in his voice.

“No reason, please, just, drop it Kuroo” I pleaded, almost begged him.

“Stop calling me Kuroo and I’ll consider it; why are you being like this?”

“Because what else do you expect me to do, Tetsurou!” I burst out, unable to contain the turmoil inside me any longer. “Crash and break, and stay broken because I can’t be just Sachiro? I like you, I like you so much, I like you so so much it’s killing me to see you with her and I can’t take it anymore.” Tears slipped from my eyes and I looked away, avoiding his gaze, not wanting to see his reaction. Whatever his reaction was I don’t want to see it, I don’t want to know.

I glanced around me and noticed that the rest of the team was staring, and my brother, in particular, looked worried. I offered him a watery smile and realized I couldn’t stay here any longer. So I picked up my things and walked over to the coach almost begging him to let me go; with a look of pitty he nodded and I stormed out of the gym as quickly as possible.

Outside, the cool evening air did little to calm the storm raging inside me. I leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths to steady myself. What had I just done? Confessing my feelings like that, in front of everyone, including Kuroo himself—was that the right thing to do? My heart ached with regret and embarrassment, but also with a strange sense of relief. The weight of my unspoken emotions had been lifted, even if it was in the most dramatic way possible; but it didn’t seem to be gone, more like revealed. I didn’t have to keep it inside anymore, and right now, that was enough. 

I walked all the way back home on my own, tears threatening to spill but not quite. The entire situation was driving me crazy, especially if Sachiro and Kuroo continued to go out; couldn’t he choose someone in a different classroom? Did it have to be her? I sight opening the door to the house, and walking to my bedroom, the doubt of how exactly to continue with any of this. 

The need for earth to come up and swallow me whole has never been more intense. 

I laid on my bed, a headache already starting to form, homework discarded and completely ignored. I’d probably bed Kenma to help me out with it during breakfast to-“Are you ok?” I look towards the door of Kenma and I’s bedroom to see a very distraught brother. 

“I will be if you do my English homework” He stared at me and glared setting his bag pack by the foot of his bed “I’m being serious Y/N, that was an unexpected outburst and I’m worried about you.” Kenma's voice was softer than usual, betraying the concern he usually kept hidden behind his indifferent exterior. 

I sighed, turning onto my side to face him. “I know, Kenma. It’s just... everything is a mess right now. I don’t know how to deal with it. Actually, I don’t want to deal with it”

He sat down at the edge of my bed, his presence comforting in its familiarity. “You need to talk to him,” he said quietly. “Properly, without the audience.” He placed a hand on my ankle spreading the comfort all over my body. If there was one thing I was grateful for, it was him. 

I shook my head, closing my eyes. “I don’t think I can face him again. Not after what I said.”

Kenma reached out and squeezed my hand. “You have to. Running away won’t solve anything. If you keep avoiding him, it’s only going to make things worse for everyone involved, especially you. Not to mention, he’s still my best friend and I need someone to play video games with me when you’re being unreasonable”

I knew he was right, but the thought of confronting Kuroo again made my stomach twist in knots. “I just need need time,” I whispered, more to myself than to Kenma “Also, how is your video game addiction more important than your baby sister?”

Kenma didn’t push any further, basically ignoring my last statement, and just gave my hand another squeeze before standing up. “I’ll do your English homework, but you owe me a one,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

I managed a small smile. “Thanks, Ken. You’re the best.”

He rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. “Yeah, yeah. Get some rest, okay? And think about what I said.”

As he left the room, I felt a bit of the weight lift from my chest. Kenma was right; I needed to talk to Kuroo, but for now, I just needed to collect myself and figure out how to navigate this emotional minefield I’d created. 

The next morning, I woke up feeling marginally better. The sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Kenma was already up, sitting at his desk and working on my homework. I stretched and yawned, feeling a slight sense of normalcy return.

“Morning,” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes.

“Morning,” Kenma replied without looking up. “I finished your English homework. It’s on your desk.”

“Thanks,” I said, grateful. “I’ll pay you back right now, what do you want for breakfast?.”

“Just take care of yourself,” he said, finally glancing at me. “That’s all I want.”

I nodded, feeling a surge of affection for my brother. He always knew what to say to ground me, to remind me of what was important, and also helping me forget about all my problems. 

As I got ready for the day, I mentally prepared myself for the inevitable confrontation with Kuroo. I needed to find the right moment, a private moment, to talk to him. I couldn’t let this situation continue to fester.

School passed in a blur, my nerves on edge as I kept an eye out for Kuroo. I saw him a few times in the hallway, but each time, he was surrounded by friends or teammates, making it impossible to approach him.

Finally, during lunch, I spotted him sitting alone on the bleachers outside. My heart pounded as I made my way over, clutching my lunch tray like a lifeline.

“Kuroo,” I called softly as I approached. He looked up, his expression unreadable.

“Tetsurou,” he corrected, his tone gentle but firm.

I swallowed hard, setting my tray down and sitting beside him. “Tetsurou, can we talk?”

He nodded, his eyes searching mine. “I’ve been waiting for you to come to me,” he admitted.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. “I’m sorry for how I acted yesterday. It was unfair to you and everyone else.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m glad you were honest. I just wish you’d told me sooner, privately. It must have been eating you up inside.”

“It was,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “But I didn’t know how to say it. And then, seeing you with her... it hurt more than I expected.”

He reached out, taking my hand in his. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I never wanted to hurt you. I care about you a lot.”

“But not in the way I want,” I said, the words heavy with resignation.

He sighed, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “I’m sorry, Y/N. But I also don’t want to lose our friendship. You mean too much to me, I just need to figure out how I feel about you”

Tears welled up in my eyes, but I blinked them away. “I don’t want to lose you either. I just... need some time to sort out my feelings, to get over it”

He nodded, his grip on my hand tightening slightly. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here, whenever you’re ready.”

We sat there in silence for a while, the weight of unspoken words hanging between us. But for the first time in days, I thought this wasn’t so bad. Maybe, just maybe, we could find a way through this together. This just once again, widened my horizons to new prospects. As lovely as Ku- Testsu is, he’s not the only cute boy around. 

[cosmicbucket]

this is by no means an educated and informative post but rather a severe understatement of the rage i feel over the interview regarding one Gale Dekarios.

under the cut is a stronger criticism on the narrative's integrity with this ending; everything before that is tearing into the lead writer's statements.

note that I will be referencing other companions as contrast. this is not supposed to be tearing them down nor casting shade on anyone who enjoys these characters; i am trying to make a point through relevant comparison.

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

"the guy who starts off annoying everyone" that is such a blatantly subjective thing to say about a character.

for me personally, i Loathed shadowheart at first because of the immediate fantasy racism towards lae'zel. this is very clearly a subjective opinion as she's the most romanced companion, and I'm not mad about that in the slightest! she rocks! you can't judge a character on behalf of everyone ever. that's a foolish thing to do, full stop.

"constantly asking you to give him your most treasured possessions to eat" three times. he asks you for a magical item, three times. after that you are NEVER required to part with a magical item on his behalf again.

the game practically THROWS magic items at you for completing side quests, looting crates and chests. magic items are in ABUNDANCE and a lot of them won't be useful to your party depending on your companions and your chosen class. meanwhile, astarion's peculiar diet lasts the entire span of the game, creating a situation where should you choose to let him feed on you every night, you suffer a penalty to attack rolls, saving throws and ability checks OR waste a spell slot to remove the condition. astarion is most certainly in no shortage of fans and again! he rocks! but by comparison his effect on the player can stretch so far as to affect the final boss battle. gale's condition doesn't even make it past the end of act 1.

"at the end, he gives himself for the world" is it worth it though. is it really seriously worth it.

you can still defeat the elder brain yourself. it's not impossible. hell, with the right spells it's really fucking easy. are you seriously going to rob yourself of the satisfaction of defeating the final boss by sending someone to their death instead and calling it a day.

I can understand the narrative catharsis of a character who is so selfish, constantly, over and over, doing something selfless for the greater good.

But that just is not what Gale's story is.

Gale is ambitious and boastful, certainly. Gale is not selfish.

His attempt to impress Mystra - The Mother of Magic, Goddess of the Weave - came from a want to be equals with his partner. He explains how she refused to allow him to witness the depths of magic, and while that's a reasonable thing to enforce to a regular mortal, she had made him her Chosen, her lover. I would hope I don't need to delve into the blatant grooming (ie Elminster approaching Gale at the age of eight) and the obvious power imbalance between a goddess and a mortal in a relationship, but his desires - ambitious as they were - were not selfish.

When he asks for the player's assistance, he does so knowing that he's asking a lot from them, especially in terms of trust. While it's easy to see his pushiness for magic items as self-serving, it is quite literally a much larger problem than him. The damage he's capable of "could level a city", and that affects not just your party but the surrounding area for miles. His urgency, his impatience, comes from having to rely on someone else who might not respect the gravity of the situation (which, evidently, a lot of players don't.)

When he realises the magic items are doing nothing to prevent his hunger, he lays it out plainly to the player, apologising for having broken their trust, and gives them the choice to send him away to certain death with no hard feelings. He even explains his plan to find an Absolutist base and hopefully destroy that in order to aid you in his death, should you choose to kick him out. This is in Act 1, way before any massive character developments - that is to say, he is unselfish from the start.

Come Act 2, when Elminster tells Gale that Mystra expects him to detonate the orb to kill the Heart of the Absolute, Gale is immediately willing. He will answer to his goddess' whims without so much as a query. You don't have to convince him to do it - rather, it becomes your choice to convince him not to do it.

And you do have to convince him! You have to actively make the choice, over and over again, to say no, we can find another way. You are not dying today.

Even in Act 3, should you take him through Zethino's Love Test, you are able to call him out for his greatest flaw:

"He thinks he, and the world, might be better off if he were dead."

I am not calling him selfless by any means; he is not a paragon of virtue. He is, however, a character whose hubris (spurred by an abusive relationship with a goddess) is amply punished, so much so that he believes this punishment is entirely deserved. He is a victim of grooming who is told to kill himself in order to gain forgiveness for trying to be equals with his partner, who took advantage of him as a child.

What kind of message is Larian trying to make here? What are they trying to tell their audience? What are they saying to people who relate to Gale?

It's fucking horrible. Do better.

[skyyknights]

biggest thoughts on skyward sword link?

aight. get ready. because I have many thoughts about him.

So, first off, yes, he is a silly sleepy doofus of a sky boy who is extremely soft and adorable and deserves everything. But, while that take is 100% correct and should not be overlooked, he is also a feral rabid gremlin who can and will tear your face off with his bare hands if the need arises (such as if you threaten Zelda).

(I mean. there's your proof right there...)

Now, a lot of people think that Link from Breath of the Wild is the strongest/toughest/etc.

Politely, I disagree.

So then who is the strongest? None other than Sky Link.

Let's start with the basics. He might not have been raised on a farm or in service as a knight for the royal family, but at the same time, he's attended an academy specifically for training knights his entire life. At the start of the game he can lift and throw massive barrels, is stated and shown to be an excellent climber, is a natural at Loftwing flying and at catching Zelda when she throws herself off of Skyloft, and is already excellent with a blade. Later on he can lift and throw small boulders, and push large wooden crates and metal carts.

But like I said, that's just the basics.

Sky Link also fights/defeats the Imprisoned and Ghirahim three times. Both grow stronger with each battle, but he defeats them nonetheless. Ghirahim at first sees him as just a silly little child who can't possibly defeat him; he quickly learns Link is anything but that and in all three of his fights becomes so humiliated that he rages at Link and on two occasions leaves instead of allowing himself to be defeated further. "You think I can't defeat you? You think I can't win? What are you, boy?" he asks in the final fight. He's afraid of Link, because Link is too powerful for him. He's the silly soft sky child, but three times now he has claimed victory over the Demon King's right hand man.

Then there's the Silent Realms, of which Link goes through four. Each one becomes increasingly more difficult and dangerous, and yet he completes all of them. Not only that, but he finds each Sacred Flame required to strengthen Fi and ends up forging the true Master Sword. He also earns and wields the full Triforce, which only a tiny handful of other Links have done. He also survives getting crushed by boulders on numerous occasions and is imprisoned (probably with a concussion) but escapes; battles a massive army of Moblins, Stalfos, and Bokoblins; and with each Silent Realm, his spirit grows, signifying he is not only strong physically, but mentally.

Anything I'm forgetting, besides the fact that Hylia specifically chose him to be her hero and defeat-

Oh yeah.

Demise.

Yup, in case anyone forgot, Sky Link kills Demise, the literal embodiment of evil itself, the original villain from whom Ganondorf comes. Demise is the most powerful enemy in LoZ who not only destroyed Hylia, but nearly all of the Surface as well; according to him, humans cower and quake upon seeing him; none but Link have ever dared to even consider standing up to him. Fighting Link, to Demise, is a casual, lighthearted ordeal where he believes he can take it easy before going off and destroying the world.

But yeah, that doesn't quite happen.

In the end, Link defeats Demise utterly on a battlefield of water and lightning, charging his own blade with it and striking the killing blow. Demise perishes and is absorbed into the Master Sword, directly after threatening that his hate, never perishing, will follow Link and Zelda throughout time.

And there you have it. Sky has just defeated the original incarnation of a cycle of endless hatred.

(while looking like this 90% of the time. he is babey. but stronk and dangerous babey who could kill u with a look).

[skaruresonic]

Even ignoring that, Oshima doesn't write the games, nor has been in the franchise for decades. His opinions have also definitely changed as well (from being annoyed by the Harmony Calendar art by other artists overly mascotting/cutifying Sonic, to blanket "they good" now cuz fondness of all 90s)

He's a good resource for dev of stuff in the initial games and inspiration for char designs, but is generally unaware of char writing besides basic traits

Though his view on Eggman being not evil evil might be cuz Sonic 1 dev Eggman being the main villain was an afterthought. And people pressure him to prioritize remembering Sonic 1/CD dev over others

But hey, took him 30 years to forget things. I can't say the same for certain writers...

And people pressure him to prioritize remembering Sonic 1/CD dev over others

Bruh I can barely remember my mindset when making OaS and it got published only a year ago. Demanding a dev recall their initial impressions of a character they helped create 30 years ago is insane.

...Anyway, I had to go find the original quote because unfortunately, people tend to misrepresent Ohshima's statements. Can't really take anyone else's word for it.

And, uh, yeah. Like the SonAmy tweet, there's quite a bit here that I have to disagree with.

First, we have the problem of thinking that villains who aim to destroy the world are automatically worse than Eggman, who "only" wants to conquer it.

Conquest under Eggman's rule would be absolutely horrible. In some instances, I wouldn't be sure if total annihilation wouldn't be a more preferable fate.

You could argue that Eggman conquering the world would end up destroying it anyway, thus rendering the comparison moot. But since that gives ground to the idea that instant destruction is worse than subjugation which results in destruction over time, I'm not going to lean too hard into it. Destruction is destruction.

The underlying assumption weakens even more when you consider the fact that not every non-Eggman villain wants to destroy the world in the first place.

Fueled by pain and rage, Chaos massacred the Knuckles clan. Regardless, it didn't destroy the entire clan, never mind the world.

Neo Metal wanted to build a robot kingdom. Not a far cry from his creator's aims.

Black Doom wanted to turn humanity into fuel and a food source. To which I must say, how is that qualitatively any different than Eggman turning animals into robot batteries?

---

Second, "Eggman protects the world" as part of his own self-interests when necessity demands. Yeah, obviously there's going to be nothing to rule if he allows the world to be destroyed and he doesn't want that. But he's not going out of his way to "protect" the world unless he has a personal stake in it and there's no other alternative. At which point, he can only be said to be pragmatic at best.

He's not doing it because he thinks he can outperform Mother Nature. I feel like Ohshima is taking Eggman's god complex too literally and thinking Eggman feels he can replace nature. Science is the means, not the objective:

He doesn't really want to replace anything; he wants to conquer and have all bend to his will, and he doesn't care if things fall into disrepair.

If he was interested in supplanting nature with his own version, why is everything falling apart in CD's Bad Futures? Where are the forests full of mechanized trees? Why are the waters polluted and not replaced with Mega Mack? This argument would imply that Eggman is also responsible for the beneficial technology seen in CD's Good Futures, and that's just backwards.

Just because he wants to slap his face on every available surface doesn't mean he has some pseudo-philosophical reason for doing so.

---

"Humans are enemies for animals."

Mr. Ohshima, I respect you, but no. Not every culture believes this. Mine doesn't. Humans have the potential to be harmful or helpful, but we are not inherently one or the other.

I think maybe what he meant to say here is that humanity's greed is the driving force behind environmental destruction, which would be a valid take in keeping with the series' overall message. Eggman does represent industry, humanity's potential for great scientific achievement and for great harm.

"Eggman wants to make the world beautiful with science and technology."

Source? No seriously, source?

This might be hair-splitting to the Nth degree, but the sense I get from this particular bit is that Eggman finds science inherently beautiful and seeks to enhance the world with it, rather than finding his own creations beautiful out of a sense of ego.

---

"He is not evil in Sonic Adventure" does not mean Ohshima is necessarily saying Eggman isn't evil in other games. And even then, it's a bit of a stretch to say he isn't evil in Adventure.

Not sure why Ohshima is bringing up SA1 as if it's particularly relevant... Although I'm vaguely reminded of a manual entry that describes Eggman as possessing no real sense of right or wrong, so he may be remembering that.

The problem with Mr. Ohshima's statements is that they are not corroborated by what the games show us. Every time Eggman has displayed remorse, it was part of a ruse - which would imply that he needs to know what contrition looks like in order to imitate it. He wouldn't brutally mock Emerl's mercy as a sign of weakness if he didn't understand it. He's not lacking in comprehension; he's actively rejecting the concept. There's a difference.

Also, this interpretation inadvertently paints Sonic in a darker light than intended given his callous disregard of Eggman, and I don't think Ohshima realizes it.

It's significant that Sonic has never looked at the camera and lamented: "Alas, poor Eggman, he knows not the error of his ways." In fact, it'd be pretty fucked-up if he thought Eggman was simply walking down a bad path, and still chose to leave him behind in explosions and ignored the guy's pleas for rescue/mercy.

The games make it clear that Eggman knows what he's doing and he just doesn't care. He calls himself "evil" in Sonic Battle. He absolutely is capable of distinguishing right from wrong, and it borders on discrediting his intelligence to imply otherwise.

Eggman has a 300 IQ and is capable of self-reflection, if we're buying the whole "muh humanizing moments" bullshit SA2 and Frontiers are selling us. It therefore strips him of his agency and infantilizes him to insist that he knows no better, even in this roundabout "oh, he's only misguided" kind of way.

Shadow was misguided in SA2. We can argue about whether he heel-face turned too quickly, but the point remains that he eventually came around.

Eggman's actions, on the other hand, have proven that even if he is misguided, he's too entrenched in his goals to consider turning the car around. So there's no real point in emphasizing the "misguided" part.

You can't have your cake and eat it too. You can't say "Eggman's finally becoming A Real Human Being(tm) through self-reflection" in one breath and "he just doesn't know right from wrong" in the next. Those two ideas are incompatible. Either Eggman knows that what he does is wrong or he doesn't. And considering how he was able to recognize his grandfather's greatness as a child, my bets are on the former.

[iamthekaijuking]

Gigabash Character Overview

Almost 2 years ago I made a review of all the revealed Gigabash kaiju in the lead up to the game’s release and what they were homages to, but the game is now almost 2 years old and its third dlc pack of guest fighters has just released. So I thought now’s as good a time as any to revisit Gigabash’s ten original kaiju and provide much more commentary as someone who’s played the game extensively, starting with…

Gorogong!

Gorogong is essentially the “starter” or brawler character on the roster, an agile character with reliable attack and defense and movement options, but with a surprisingly high skill ceiling. Do not underestimate a Gorogong player! A truly skilled one can wipe the floor with you.

Design

Gorogong is pretty much the poster child of Gigabash and showcases the main design inspiration for most of the original kaiju in the game. Passion Republic Games is a Malaysian company, and Ultraman is really popular there. With this information in mind it becomes clear that Gorogong was designed using traits from a few monsters in Ultraman’s extensive roster. Off the top of my head I can see some silhouette inspiration from Red King EX, and the face reminds me of Bemular (which apparently was the main facial inspiration) and Guigass. Miclas was probably a bigger inspiration than those latter two though.

Overall he wouldn’t look out of place in an episode of Ultraman. But despite being a grab bag of traits, his design process was actually quite extensive! And you can see concept art showing the multiple different iterations he went through before PRG finally settled on what we got.

Gorogong is also pretty obviously a volcanic monster, with his stony hide and lava leaking from its cracks. Gorogong burst into the modern world of Gigabash after being disturbed from his hibernation in a volcano after humans stole something from him. But why was he in the volcano, and what was the important thing humans stole?

Lore

Gorogong’s home turf is Luana Island of the Kahu’a Republic, a Polynesian island smack dab in the center of the Pacific Ocean. How long he was there isn’t known, but what is known is that when Polynesian settlers came to the island many centuries ago he was far from happy. Actually that’s an understatement, because Gorogong’s rage is his primary character trait.

He nearly eradicated the settlers and chased the stragglers for hours around the island before cornering them. But right before he could finish them off, Princess Luana, daughter of king Kahu’a and namesake of the island, began singing to crying children to soothe them. Her voice was so beautiful that it calmed Gorogong and pacified him.

In an effort to save her people she led him into the volcano on the island, and in the art showing this backstory in Gorogong’s story mode, Giga energy (what exactly it is or might be is something I’ll further elaborate as these overviews go on) is seen flowing out from the volcano as it then sealed the kaiju inside.

It was only through Princess Luana’s sacrifice that people were able to settle down on the island, and apparently they remained isolated from the rest of the world until the 1940s. Soon after, travel agencies and fast food companies flocked to the island and now it’s a tourist destination flocked with tourists and companies. Much to the frustration of the natives.

The entire time, Gorogong was sleeping in the volcano undisturbed. Of course word of Gorogong’s legend eventually reached the Global Titan Defense Initiative, an anti-kaiju international military organization created during the first kaiju crisis in the 70’s, nowadays though the organization is filled with corruption and uses its military power and resources to rig elections in favor of politicians who’ll throw more money at them, and many governments around the world are dependent on them. They cause more problems than they solve in their efforts to eradicate kaiju. They set up a base on the volcano to investigate if the legends were true, and it quickly became apparent that the volcano was filled with Giga energy and that a kaiju was indeed inside it. There was also a massive Giga Crystal inside (which admittedly looks kinda like a purple turd) and some point they were commissioned by OtamaTEC to remove and retrieve it for a project (which will be covered in another post). Taking away this artifact woke up Gorogong though, and it seems that he’ll follow anyone who takes it from him to the ends of the earth in order to retrieve it, and there’s some implication that the Giga turd is what became of princess Luana.

Overall, Gorogong is a great poster child for the game and was painstakingly designed by PRG to be loving homage to classic Ultraman monsters. He’s also very fun to play and draw.

[ryuichirou]

Replies

I have a couple of older asks that need longer replies, and I’ll try to answer at least one of them tomorrow… but today we have a bunch of shorter ones!

furubatsu asked:

In an ask you answered ages ago, you mentioned how Malleus threw off your Top/Bottom radars at first and I was curious, are there any other characters that made you go "their x! No, wait, y!"

Ooh, good question! The only other character I can think of is Lilia, but he wasn’t as confusing as Malleus: his design threw us off, but the moment Lilia opened his mouth, we figured him out lol

We really very rarely have problems with that, because it’s more about feeling the vibe of a character than anything else.

But Malleus really did confuse us for quite some time…

Anonymous asked:

are you two aware of league of legends? maybe the jhin x hwei dynamic would be interesting…

We know of it, but we aren’t even remotely closely familiar with the lore and stuff, but we actually went and read a bit about Jhin and Hwei after receiving your ask and YEP WE GET IT LOL to be honest we’re flattered that you thought that we might like them… they really do have an interesting dynamic, and the fact that it’s rooted in deep feelings about art and has some much despair and inner and outer conflict honestly makes it very spicy.

And Hwei’s design 👌💖💖💖 instantly love him.

Anonymous asked:

Even though Regina George isn't really fitting for Vil, I bet the in universe rps/rpf community loves casting him as her in Mean Girls AUs and frequently make comments about how Vil should've been cast as her in the musical version and/or remake.

Anon, I 100% agree that the in-universe fandom fancasts him as Regina all the time. He should start asking Mira who is the most “he should’ve played Regina in the musical omg” person in the world lol

But at the same time I feel like this is the reason why Vil doesn’t read comments under his posts sometimes…

Anonymous asked:

One of my favorite 'Kalim Overblots' I've read, we don't even get to see him Overblot.

He overblots after an enemy tricks him into thinking he murdered a comatose Jamil right in front of him, leading him to attacking the 'culprit' in a rage with Oasis Maker and then-

Cut to the aftermath.

There you go, another interesting way to make Kalim overblot! I like how it’s still related to him feeling responsibility + despair because of Jamil’s death, it seems like this is the main trigger for Kalim to get an emotional reaction of this magnitude.

Anonymous asked:

Najma and Jamil are basically siblings who like to mess each other but still love each other. I mean Jamil has a better family relationship to her than his parents. That doesn't mean he doesn't like how she often annoyed him.

Azul will likely try to win Najma over for her to accept her brother's relationship to her. I mean having inlaws together is worst.

Aw this is very sweet. I’m glad Jamil has a sister like that.

God I didn’t even think about the Azul-being-into-Jamil aspect of all of it, oh god this guy is going to annoy Najma too, although for some reason I get the feeling that she’s only going to be nice to Azul to annoy Jamil.

But then again, I can’t say anything concrete about her – haven’t met the girl yet.

Anonymous asked:

IDK why but I really like the idea of Ruggie unintentionally 'stealing' Azul's 'boyfriends'. Like Azul is already upset that Jamil prefers Ruggie over him and then finds Ruggie on top of Idia when he arrives at the Board Game Club room (in reality they fell over and accidentally landed in a compromising position).

Poor Azul, this is going to make him overblot again lol  I like how this is turning into a weird romcom, although with how petty Azul is, it could end up turning into an entirely different kind of anime.

Anonymous asked:

when i was starting twst i thought neige was the name of jamils sister

Jamil and his randomly French sister…

[kyoonnyoon]

CW: this post discusses my theory on who the traitor(s) might be for mwiii.

i didn’t want to be the one to say this but…

i think alejandro and, by extension, rudy and the rest of los vaqueros might be the traitors in mwiii.

alternatively, if they aren’t the main traitors, i think they would at least end up assisting in some way.

“omg how could you say that they are cute spicy bois they couldn’t possibly be the trai—,”

hush. i have my reasons.

after my 3rd time watching through the entire campaign this week—i can’t even count how many times i’ve sat through the 4 and 1/2 hour videos on youtube since the game came out—i think i’ve gathered sufficient evidence to support my theory.

buckle up, babes, it gets kinda wild.

note: this is probably all garbage and completely incorrect/all over the place, but i’ve hyper fixated on it for weeks so i just had to share it.

𖤐𖤐𖤐

laswell and alejandro seem to know each other quite well. where there is history, there could be (eventual) intent/motive. we don’t know how they know each other, but i wanted to point this out for anyone who might question why it could be possible for ale and the cowboys to turn.

when ghost and soap first arrive in las almas and meet ale and rudy, rudy makes a comment in spanish along the lines of, “i am afraid of ghosts.” it might be a funny throw-away comment, but i always thought it was a bit weird considering the fact that ghost and soap were there to fight as allies. this, coupled with the fact that ale asks if ghost and soap could speak spanish after rudy says it, makes me think that rudy was trying to warn ale about the duo. i’ve always been interested in the fact that the special forces can send units out anywhere in the world, regardless of language barriers. maybe rudy assessed the two new-comers and decided that, while soap definitely didn’t speak the language, maybe ghost might know spanish. the warning might have been to let ale know not to say anything… untoward… even if it was in spanish. just in case. (this only applies if they’ve already been dirty dealing, but who knows? i sure don’t.)

ale: “we love this place, and we will die fighting for it.” a bit more motive? served.

soap asks ale where his family is during their mission to capture hassan. ale tells him that he “keeps that information a secret for their protection”. that’s all fine and good, but will play into my theory a bit later.

how the heckity hell did alejandro manage to take down a guard and act as a cartel member in diego’s mansion so easily? he never even gave an explanation as to how he did it! as if “violently” can explain how he snuck to the perimeter of the mansion, got inside without notice, and no one questioned the new guy???? hello???

when soap tells ale that el sin nombre is actually a woman named “valeria”, he pauses. i believe that he knew EXACTLY who soap was talking about, but hesitated because he couldn’t believe it was HER. when seeing her dragged onto the helo when she got captured, ale looks like he’s seen a ghost… and maybe he has. maybe he and valeria know each other a lot more intimately than simply serving in the forces together. maybe he and valeria are related in some way. now, this all kinda sounds crazy… until you realize how strangely “familiar” the vibe between the two is when they interact with each other. they way they argue during her first interrogation seems waaaay too intimate for two soldiers from different squads. and then ale tells valeria that she’s a “disgrace to the army… y tu hermanos no?” WHY DID HE BRING UP HER BROTHERS (as if he would know them) AND WHY WAS THAT LITTLE TIDBIT TACKED ON AT THE END IN SPANISH??

maybe when he realizes that valeria cares about las almas just as much as him (enough to turn into a literal cartel leader and deal with terrorists to decrease hits on the drug trafficking trades that las almas would ultimately profit from) he can’t help but leave the interrogation room trembling with rage. because this DOES change everything. after all, he would die fighting for las almas… and the military certainly puts up enough red tape to make his mission difficult.

i’m not leaving out rudy and the other vaqueros. the symbiotic relationship between the special forces, mexican army, and cartels that exist in and around las almas is turbulent, sure, but it seems to work just fine when people are willing to turn their heads and mind their own business. and maybe that’s the ultimate goal they are hoping to achieve to keep las almas from falling. after all, they’ve literally been force fed the reality of what happens when that symbiotic relationship isn’t checked, balanced, and maintained, and now they’re left to scrape bodies off the streets, return crying children to remaining family members (if any), and rebuild the city on top of the blood and other horrors that came to them at the hands of shepherd, graves, and the shadows. and, let’s be honest, rudy and los vaqueros are so utterly devoted to their colonel that i doubt they’d fall out of line if alejandro decided they needed to take matters into their own hands.

at the end of 141’s time with los vaqueros, valeria states that she will be out of custody within 24 hours. she’s right for several reasons. first, there’s no physical evidence that could trace back to her involvement with hassan. two, if el sin nombre disappears, the special forces/mexican military will fall out of favor with the remaining citizens of las almas. three, i believe that any evidence that might have been found related to her involvement with hassan, the cartels, etc., will most definitely be expunged… since it’s super helpful to know someone who knows other someones in high places. plus, we know ale and the cowboys treat each other like family. if valeria IS family, how do you think they’ll go about treating her now that she’s in their possession?

in all the time we see ghost and soap working with los vaqueros, it isn’t until they are leaving las almas that alejandro realizes that ghost could speak spanish THE ENTIRE TIME BUT CHOSE NOT TO. of course, if alejandro and los vaqueros are the traitors, this could mean that ghost could definitely know things he really shouldn’t if he eavesdropped on any of the conversations around him (he most definitely did). you know what they say, you gotta eliminate any and all witnesses… especially if that witness may have heard bits and pieces about a possible plot to defect from the rules and regulations of the military.

…and that’s why i think ale and the cowboys just might turn into traitors in mwiii.

of course, this is just a theory.

a game theory. *rapid fire air horns*

[yanderes-galore]

Can I get a romantic concept of yandere Cuphead, please???? Thx!

Sure! Aged up as usual and it's vague if this is the game or the cartoon, despite the gif. New to writing this fandom so go easy on me, lol.

Yandere! Cuphead Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, OOC Cuphead, Clingy behavior, Jealousy, Stalking, Violence, Manipulation, Guilt-tripping, Mental breakdown, Slight delusional behavior, Kidnapping, Implied forced relationship.

Out of both the brothers, Cuphead seems to be the most reckless/bratty of the two.

He's childish and wants the easy-going life full of adventure.

While he's typically kind-hearted, he takes risks and is usually greedy.

Cuphead would be Clingy, Manipulative, Easily jealous, Obsessive, Protective, and Impulsive with his darling.

Cuphead treats his crush on you like it's his most precious treasure.

He'd never gamble it away or share you with anyone.

Cuphead is still very greedy even when he's older.

Which leads to him wanting to take up all your time.

Due to his upbringing Cuphead is a bit... entitled.

He feels he is the only one that deserves to be around you!

He takes it from a normal level of wanting to be around your crush... to being unable to function in the day without seeing you.

You're visited by him often with a goofy smile on his face.

If you aren't home? Then he'll wander Inkwell Isle until he finds you.

Overtime he can be quite the handful.

Cuphead can be manipulative due to him feeling entitled to you.

He's not entirely delusional but he does feel you and him are meant to be.

He'd guilt you about neglecting him until you eventually cave.

Cuphead makes you feel like the bad guy for being tired of his clingy behavior.

He's tiring but makes it your problem.

Which doesn't make him the best partner.

It doesn't help that Cuphead is easily jealous.

Cuphead frequently fights with Mugman, if you were brought up then Cuphead throws a fit.

Cuphead likes the idea of it just being you and him...

He wants an easy life with you and is usually deep into his fantasy all the time.

Most of the time ignoring how you felt about his odd behavior.

Cuphead starts fights easily, too.

He can't deal with jealousy in the slightest without breaking out into a rage or crying.

Cuphead is obsessive about you as his crush.

He wants to know your favorite everything.

What better way to know everything about you than watching you?

He feels guilty... he knows this obsession is wrong.

Yet Cuphead was always one to give into temptation.

Cuphead is acutely aware of how bad his obsession is.

He's given into temptation by the Devil himself in the past...

So he's one to indulge in forbidden practices.

Watching you will be fine, right?

Just as long as he doesn't get caught....

Same thing for threatening people around you!

If he isn't caught by you... it'll all be fine!

Cuphead is protective of his darling not only due to jealousy but the fear that someone like the literal Devil could take you.

Inkwell Isle isn't as safe as you might think.

It's flowing with sin, he'd know.

Many have signed deals with the Devil here.

Cuphead is determined to protect you from this tainted world!

He's seen it first hand.

Which may mean Cuphead might look to isolation in an attempt to keep you with him... safe.

Cuphead's reckless and can get a bit impulsive.

With his obsession he dips into territory he shouldn't.

Stealing, manipulation, violence, stalking, kidnapping...

All of these he does on impulse.

He feels this will be the best way to start your relationship and keep you safe!

Meanwhile you're locked away like something that could be stolen any second.

Cuphead can be very intense with his obsession.

He's obsessive and draining towards his darling...

He may think starting a relationship will make you both happy... there's a good chance you'll be too tired mentally and physically to fight back anyways.

[crabdrabbles]

Here's Chapter 5 for @pricegazweek week! Chapters: 5/7 Fandom: Call of Duty (Video Games) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick/John Price Characters: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price (Call of Duty) Additional Tags: Presumed Dead, Blood and Injury

I know I'm a few days behind, but I should hopefully finish the remaining two chapters by Wednesday <3

“I expected... more from not just one– but two SAS soldiers.”

“Undo these ropes and I’ll show you exactly what we’re capable of.” Price spat, very much a spitting image of a large, and furious, animal. Gaz, who was kneeling beside him, remained quiet– but his eyes burned with a rage that matched that of his captain’s. 

Poor intel was part of the job, gaps missing in the portfolio, sending soldiers in blind– shit like that happened. It was Price’s entire job to adapt to any situation thrown at him– to change plans at the drop of a hat. To keep his men safe. There was only so much he could do when intel was not only flawed, but falsified completely. And Price had led himself and Gaz right into danger with little to no backup. 

‘Just routine.’ he had said to Ghost after his Lieutenant had asked if he needed him and Soap on standby. ‘We should manage just fine.’

‘Something doesn’t feel right about this, Price.’ Ghost had said as he poured over the copious amount of files and reports– months worth of investigations and surveillance. 

‘Intel’s from one of Laswell’s agents. I trust her judgement.’ SImon had looked like he wanted to say something more but Price had brushed it off. If it was important, then the mancunian would have spoken his mind without a second thought. He should have pushed him– pressed him to speak his mind because then maybe he and Gaz wouldn’t be stuck in this situation– at the mercy of some greed driven arms dealer. Even as they were climbing into Nik’s heli, Simon had that look on his face– the one that said something wasn’t quite right. Why didn’t Price ask? He had never had a problem listening to his men before, appreciating any input anybody had– he wouldn’t have shut Simon down. He would have brought all four of them on the mission if the Lieutenant was that worried. 

Although, that may have meant all of the team would have been captured instead of just half. Hindsight was a petty bitch and, if Price got out of this alive, he would have to have a stern word with her. And maybe Laswell, too, to watch her agents a little more closely. He flexed his hands, tensing to feel the knot wrapping around his wrists. If given enough time, some leeway, and a little bit of luck, he might be able to shimmy his way out of them. He just needed to keep Sergey talking. It must have been the bastard’s first capture, because the idiot had left most of their gear on in his haste to get them tied up and kneeling. Amateur.

“What do you want from us?” Gaz asked and Price’s eyes flicked over to his lover, worry flashing for only a moment before he schooled his expression back into a mask of fury. 

“Information.” The arms dealer, Sergey, said. Sergey was a sickly looking man– wiry yet fat in all the wrong places that made his body bulge in strange parts. He wore an ill fitting suit that was clearly too small for his size but also somehow managed to look too big at the same time. In all honesty, he looked exactly what one would expect when thinking of what an arm’s dealer would look like– right down to the untrustworthy moustache. Not to mention he looked like he was almost constantly constipated and, from the way he was holding the pistol in his shaking hand, he had never wielded a weapon before. Ironic– a man who had never sampled his open products that he was illegally shipping off to the highest bidder. Not one to get his hands dirty– but more than happy to dip them in blood. 

“What sort of information?” Price spoke up before Gaz could open his mouth back up. Attention on me, Price’s face screamed. Don’t look at him. Look at me. The more attention on him, the less likely that Gaz was going to be put in harm's way. Price could deal well enough with being tortured and interrogated– could handle it better than the sergeant. 

“Just a little bit of information, that’s all I want, and I’ll be happy to let you both go. And, depending on what you give, you may walk away with heavier pockets.”

Of course a man like Sergey would offer a bribe in exchange for information and freedom. Price expected that from someone who had never been told ‘no’ his entire life. If Price had taken every bribe thrown his way in the past 20 odd years, he would have been able to afford a private island with a complimentary private jet. Maybe one of those fancy yachts, too, so he could go out fishing in the ocean. With the amount of money he could have got, he’d be buying private islands for each individual fish he caught. 

“Cold of you to assume we’ll give you anything.” He continued slowly, clenching his hands into fists and straining subtly to fight the rope. His wrists would be red raw by the end of the night but if it got them out alive he’d take a bullet too for good measure. Just a little more…

“I imagine that you will. I can be quite… persuasive.” Gaz snorted to Price’s left and he sent a scathing look his sergeant's way. Antagonising the man holding the gun was the last thing that they wanted right now.

“And if we don’t?”

“I kill you both.” An emphasis on his words with a point of his pistol to Price. He was shaking, the metal rattling from his trembling. Jesus wept– had he ever even held a gun before? 

There– he could feel the ropes loosen ever so slightly, just enough for him to start sliding his thumb through. It would be uncomfortable and quite painful, but it was enough. 

“Then you get nothing.” Panted through clenched teeth, masking his pain for anger.  “Go on, then, shoot me.”

“No. I still need you, Captain. Your friend, however…”

Before anyone could do so much as blink, the gun moved to point at Gaz in all its shaking glory. Two clear shots rang out– followed by a body hitting the ground. Price’s heart kicked into gear– blood rushing in his ears, heart hammering against his ribs as if trying to jump out of his very chest in order to get to– 

Gaz.

Price stared at the motionless sergeant, eyes wide and every instinct in his body screaming at him to move– to check on him. A small puddle of blood was already forming underneath Gaz’s body. No. No, no, no, no–

“Gaz!”

Read the rest on AO3!